The Dark Side of Pegasus
by SGAFan
Summary: When Sheppard's team disappears on a routine off-world mission, Atlantis is left with few leads to find them, except an injured Sheppard who may… or may not be able to help them in time. Written for the LJ Sheppard HC Secret Santa Fic Exchange.


A nonfat vanilla latte with extra foam was Elizabeth Weir's favorite drink and sometimes the only way she got through long afternoons. But the one rapidly cooling in her hand today, held no enjoyment. She'd heard the seriousness in Lorne's tone as the jumper had slowly ascended into the bay and knew that not only had the rescue party not found Colonel Sheppard's team, but no sign of them either.

Elizabeth turned away from her window to the Gate Room and slowly sat down behind her desk, setting her half-drank latte aside. She leaned forward, folding her hands on her desk as she sighed deeply. Sheppard's team was six hours overdue. The mission had been a standard recon, with the MALP showing no signs of trouble. What could've happened?

She looked up as Lorne appeared in her doorway, seemingly from nowhere, still dressed for off-world, his P-90 hanging from his TAC vest. Her smile was grim and she waved him into her office.

"Nothing, Major?" she asked, knowing from his sober expression what his answer would be.

Lorne unclipped his P-90 and set it on the floor next to him as he sat down in a chair. "No, ma'am. We even did an orbital sweep of the planet for any subcutaneous transmitter signals. Nothing." Lorne met her intense gaze. "They're not on M9H-060 anymore."

Elizabeth dropped her head for a moment, concern knotting her gut. She looked back up at her military second-in-command. "DHD?"

Lorne nodded. "I had Zelenka mine the addresses dialed from that DHD. One of them has to be where the Colonel's team went, but," he sighed, "there are over fifty of them."

Edgy, Elizabeth quickly stood up and paced behind her chair. Over fifty planets. Even with every gate team on Atlantis turned out to search, it'd take time. Time she wasn't sure Sheppard's team had. And what if they'd gated to another planet from one of the addresses mined? Elizabeth abruptly stopped and planted her hands on her hips. She looked at Lorne. "Colonel Sheppard would not gate to another planet without a damn good reason, and he wouldn't do it without contacting us first." Her gaze narrowed. "Not willingly."

Lorne nodded, a harsh almost dangerous edge tingeing his expression. "No, ma'am, he wouldn't."

Her lips tightened as anger wormed its way into her gut. For a passing moment, she pondered the changes to her perspective the Pegasus Galaxy and Atlantis had brought on. She still held strong to her diplomatic roots, but the harsh realities she'd faced here forced her to recognize the need, sometimes, for military might. Her people were her responsibility and she'd get them back: diplomatically and peacefully if possible, or with force if necessary.

She planted her hands on her desk and gave him a very direct look. "How do we find them?"

Lorne leaned back in his chair. "We start a systematic search of each planet on the list from M9H-060's DHD. With subcutaneous transmitters, we should be able to detect if anyone from the colonel's team are anywhere on those planets. We also get word out to our off-world contacts in case they hear something in the grapevine."

Elizabeth nodded. "I want every available off-world team on this, Major. If it is a hostile force that has taken Colonel Sheppard's team, and we have to assume it is, then time is critical." She knew she wasn't telling Lorne anything he didn't already know, but it felt better for her to say it.

Lorne promptly stood. "Yes, ma'am, I'll get right on it." He reached down and grabbed his P-90.

Her gaze as hard as her resolve, Elizabeth nodded in response. She watched as Lorne turned and hastily left her office. She looked down at her desk for a moment, only to be interrupted by a familiar vibration passing through the floor. She turned towards the gate in time to see the first chevron light up.

"Unscheduled off-world activation!" Chuck's voice carried over her radio and echoed from Ops through her opened office door.

Elizabeth rounded her desk and trotted across the short bridge from her office into Ops. Lorne who apparently had just reached the back stairs, wove his way back through personnel to join her. Elizabeth stopped briefly by Chuck's station. "Raise the shield." She turned and walked out onto the landing, watching as the shield jumped to life and the wormhole flushed behind it. She exchanged concerned looks with Lorne before looking back at Chuck. "Do we have an IDC?"

Chuck glanced at a nearby laptop before smiling. "Yes, ma'am. Now receiving Colonel Sheppard's IDC."

Elizabeth smiled as well. "Lower the shield." She glanced at Lorne before briskly heading for the stairs, the major right behind her. She tapped her headset. "John? It's Elizabeth. The shield is down, come through." At the bottom of the stairs, she stopped, watching impatiently as the wormhole shimmered silently. A note of warning whispered to her and she furrowed her brows. Again, she tapped her headset. "Colonel Sheppard, this is Atlantis. Please respond." She looked at Lorne as relief melted away from his expression and was replaced with wary tension.

Lorne slowly raised his P-90. "Please stay here, ma'am," he started walking towards the gate, as the SOs around him followed his lead and six more guns focused on the still quiet wormhole.

Elizabeth was rooted in place, her gaze focused on the Stargate, so when the wormhole suddenly shimmered around an emerging traveler, she flinched reflexively.

The body rolled through the gate at an alarming rate, momentum carrying it another few feet before the traveler came to rest on his side. He was still for a moment, before weakly pushing up on his left arm. He cried out, his arm buckling under his own weight but he refused to stay down and struggled into a kneeling position, a large, curved knife covered in blood clutched in his shaking, right hand.

Elizabeth's eyes widened in recognition. "John?" She took two steps towards him but halted as he fixed her with a wild-eyed gaze. His TAC vest and any Atlantis issue weapons were gone and his clothes were torn in several places.

"Colonel!" Lorne started towards John, only to stutter step and stop as John twisted towards him, brandishing the knife threateningly. "Sir?"

"Get… away from… me...!" John's voice was hoarse and strangled, and he was clearly fighting to stay conscious.

Lorne's gaze never left John as he waved back the other SOs. He lowered his gun and set it on the floor. "Easy, Colonel. It's Lorne, sir. You're safe."

Elizabeth slowly walked a little closer, still staying a fair distance away from her military commander. She studied his expression. He seemed confused even desperate, but there was a hard edge to his gaze leaving no doubt in her mind that even in his weakened state, he was very dangerous. The blood covering his knife and staining his hands only confirmed it for her.

"John?" she ventured quietly. "It's Elizabeth. You're safe."

His gaze turned to her, the wild expression tinged with confusion for a moment, before he wobbled, his eyes rolling back in his head. "Lorne!" Elizabeth rushed towards John as he collapsed. "Medical team to the Gate Room!" she shouted, not bothering with her radio.

Lorne's reaction was instantaneous and he jumped forward, coming down hard on his knees and sliding across the smooth floor, just barely catching John, cushioning his head and keeping it from hitting the hard surface. Immediately, Lorne reached out and knocked the knife from his commander's limp grip, letting it slide across the floor where it came to rest in front of one of the SOs. He briefly looked back at the guard. "Don't touch it, not without gloves. Beckett will want it for forensics."

Elizabeth dropped to one knee and stared down at John. His face was bruised, bloodied and swollen in places and distinct rope burns circled both of his wrists. But none of that worried her half as much as the rapid flow of blood coming from his left shoulder. There were splatters of blood on his face, distinct from his own wounds, and in a dark moment, Elizabeth realized that not all the blood on the injured colonel belonged to him.

Still holding John's head in his lap, Lorne pressed his fingers into his throat and nodded. "He's alive."

Elizabeth rested her hand on John's stomach, looked up at Lorne, and nodded as she felt the slow rise and fall of life. "He's breathing."

Lorne reached up, ripping a bandage from one of his TAC vest pockets. "He's been shot." He pressed the bandage into John's shoulder. The colonel's head moved slightly, his moan barely more than a whisper.

Elizabeth gently put a hand on John's cheek and almost recoiled from the heat radiating from his body. "High fever," she muttered, not looking away from him. "John? It's Elizabeth. Can you hear me?"

John moaned quietly again, before going still under her hand. Elizabeth looked up as Beckett and his team swiftly entered the room, a gurney between them.

"Out of the way, boys," Beckett ordered, winding his way between SOs who stepped aside. He knelt on the opposite side of Elizabeth, his gaze quickly passing over the colonel. "How long has he been unconscious?"

Elizabeth pulled her gaze from Carson and fixed it back on John. "He was conscious when he came through the gate." She looked up at Beckett. "Carson, he was brandishing a knife at all of us."

Beckett pressed his fingers into John's neck. "Did he recognize you?"

"Not at first, no," Elizabeth shook her head. "Before he lost consciousness," she shrugged, "possibly. He collapsed right after that. Maybe a minute or so after he came through?"

"He did move and respond pretty weakly when I put pressure on his shoulder, doc," Lorne added.

"Feeble response to pain," Carson muttered as his hands passed over John's limbs. He grabbed his stethoscope. "Fever, too."

Elizabeth took a deep breath and stood. She walked over behind Lorne and reached down, squeezing his shoulder lightly. "Major," she said quietly.

Lorne looked up at her and the surrounding medical team. He nodded and edged out from under his commander's head, which he gently eased to the floor, before he stood and backed out of the way.

Elizabeth tried to process her emotions and all the thoughts racing through her head as she silently watched Beckett's team attend to John. With an IV started and a stark white pressure bandage on the colonel's shoulder, the medical team lifted him onto the gurney before briskly exiting the Gate Room.

As the medical team and their patient disappeared from sight, Elizabeth looked over at Lorne, his expression equally as grim. "What the hell is going on here, Major?" she asked, knowing full well he was as clueless as her.

Lorne shook his head as he looked back towards the empty hallway where the medical team had been only a moment before. "I don't know, ma'am," he answered quietly, "but I'll be damned if I don't find out."

Elizabeth looked past him to the dark, inactive Stargate as one question drowned out all the others in her head. _Where was the rest of Sheppard's team?_ After a long moment, Elizabeth briskly crossed the Gate Room and headed for the infirmary, Lorne right behind her.

Carson worked swiftly, his hands quick, as he cut away the remains of John's shirt. "Get the colonel on O2 and I want blood drawn for a complete workup, including toxicology." his orders to his staff were almost automatic, and Carson held strong to his professionalism, trying to ignore who his patient was. A patient was a patient and his job was to care for them, but he knew he wouldn't be human if some patients didn't mean more to him personally than others. Colonel Sheppard was a close friend and had saved his life more than once. Holding strong to medical professionalism was the best way Carson could think of to concentrate on the task in front of him and not who was lying motionless on the gurney.

Carson looked up at one of the medics on his staff. "Carolyn, let's get the scanner in place. I want a full body check. And page Doctor Pearson. I want his opinion on that shoulder. The good news, if you can call it that, is there's a clean exit wound, but I still want an orthopedic evaluation and surgical assessment."

Carolyn nodded, her smile thin as she turned away.

"Doctor?" Carson's head nurse, Marie, captured his attention. "BP is 100/70."

Carson nodded. "That's better. IV's helping his blood volume." He stepped back as Carolyn and two technicians moved the Ancient scanner into place. Before long, a solid green light passed slowly up the colonel's body.

Carson quickly walked over to the large scanner display and scrutinized the results. The gunshot wound data was unsurprising, though he was relieved to see the wound was clean; no major structures were damaged, which in itself was a miracle. John was battered and bruised in several areas across his body in patterns that indicated some rough handling, even fighting, but he had no other major injuries. Carson looked back to the gurney as the scanner completed its cycle and the technicians pushed it back from John's bed.

_The knife felt good in his hand and he tightened his fingers around the hilt. He paid very little attention to the body he stepped over. His gaze fixed on the dark doorway. A quiet voice urged caution but he couldn't heed it. He couldn't be caught again! _

_Evade._

_Evade where possible and kill where necessary. _

_His hand clutched around the small, hard object in his pocket. He'd found it on the last man he'd killed. He needed it to survive. Didn't know why…. _

_105-69BC38… 105-69BC38…_

_John's breathing was rapid as he trotted down the dark hallway._

"Carson?" Carolyn squinted at John's form before looking up at one of the monitors over his head. "I think he's coming to."

_John's head swam as the twin images of the man in front of him, turned to four. His head lolled, striking the tall back of the wooden chair hard, but the pain was muted, barely registering with him. He was tired and… why was he fighting? Who was he fighting? What was the point? Fighting was hard. His eyes slid shut._

Carson looked down at John's face in time to see his eyes open and lazily move around the room. He started towards the bed watching as John's gaze cleared, his eyes widening and fixing on the IV attached to his arm. Before Carson could even react, John shot straight up in his bed, his backhanded fist striking across Carolyn's face, sending her reeling into a cart of equipment nearby. Both the medic and the cart went down in a loud crash, instruments and supplies scattering across the floor.

"Security to the infirmary!" Carson shouted into his radio as he ran towards John, the world around him dissolving into chaos as personnel scrambled to block exits and protect other patients.

John grunted against the pain of his gunshot wound as he reached down with his left hand, savagely ripping the IV from his right arm. "…Drugs!" His shout was hoarse and weak, but still carried a note of anger. He fumbled with covers, his legs swinging off the bed, but in his weakened state, he was in no shape to stand. As soon as his feet hit the floor, his knees buckled and he fell heavily, crashing down on his left shoulder with a broken cry.

"Colonel!" Carson dashed around the end of the bed, two of his male technicians right behind him. "Bloody hell!" he ducked as John threw a stainless steel pan at his head before kicking savagely at him, barely missing Carson's leg. Cornered, the colonel fought like a caged animal, and had the wild expression to match. Whatever was going through his clearly altered mind, he believed his life was at stake, and he fought with a brutal determination to match.

Behind him, Carson heard the main infirmary door open and the shuffle of feet that heralded the arrival of the SOs. "Colonel…"

"…come near me…" John hissed through clenched teeth. "…kill you!" Blood oozed from the mangled IV wound and the white bandage over his shoulder was rapidly turning red. With a burst of strength, Carson wouldn't have expected, John lunged at him, plowing into his legs and taking Carson and the two technicians down in a tangled heap.

Carson hit the ground hard and struggled under the weight pressing him to the floor. Twisting onto his back, he came face to face with John. Carson froze, fear chilling him as he stared at the cold and deadly expression on John's face, only inches from his. Carson's hand shot up, grabbing John's wrist as the colonel's fist descended towards him. Under normal circumstances, Carson would never put his strength up against the colonel's, but in his weakened state, John was no match. John grunted and pushed hard and Carson's eyes narrowed as he felt the twitches of muscle spasms under his hand and the shuddering through John's body. Even through his fear, Carson mentally cataloged the symptoms; another piece added to the puzzle of what was ailing Sheppard.

From behind, two SOs appeared grabbing John under his arms and hauling him backwards off of Carson. John shouted in rage, twisting against their grip, but they held fast. Not that it was easy. For a moment, Carson was amazed at John's strength, in spite of his condition, fueled by a singular tenacity and a stubborn refusal to surrender. "Watch the shoulder!" Carson scrambled to his feet.

"Doc! Give him something!" One of the SOs twisted his arm away as John tried to bite him, before kicking backwards at him.

"I can't! Not without knowing what's in his system! Anything I give him could kill him! Colonel! John!" Carson pled, but his words fell on deaf ears.

"NO!" John shouted, his fight fueled purely by adrenaline. "RUN!"

Carson pointed at the gurney. "Get him on the bed!" He turned to the nearest medic. "Soft restrains, now! And someone get down to the lab! Light a fire under their arses and get me those toxicology results, stat!"

The two technicians Carson had landed on seemed no worse for wear and darted around him, grabbing John's legs as the SOs heaved him onto the bed.

John's back arched as he fought against their hold, his incoherent shout of defiance echoing across the infirmary, but the fight was over quickly as his injuries finally overcame adrenaline, and he collapsed into unconsciousness.

Wasting no time, Carson quickly secured John's legs, and then his arms, freeing the SOs, who stepped back. They both planted their hands on their knees and took several rapid breaths.

"Christ," one of them muttered.

Carson quickly placed an oxygen mask over John's mouth and nose. "Aye," he agreed. He looked over his shoulder, spotting Marie who helped Carolyn slowly sit up. She held a hand to her rapidly discoloring cheek and made eye contact with Carson, nodding slightly, her affirmation that she was okay contrasting with the tears in her eyes. "Get checked out," Carson said gently before he looked back at John. Carson cut away the blood soaked bandage, cursing quietly. His gaze briefly passed over the two nurses assisting him. "Get that IV re-established. One liter Ringers, wide open."

"_Find the bastard!"_

_John peeked around the stone wall's edge at the enemy. He'd already killed two. He'd kill more if he had to. _

_He slid back into the darkness as one of the enemy walked by him and down another corridor. When he was sure the other had left, John silently followed the first one. _

_Divide and conquer. _

_Kill them one at a time. _

"What the hell?" The unmistakable voice of Elizabeth Weir pierced Carson's concentration. He looked back at her. "Elizabeth," he answered, trying to keep his voice even.

"We heard the call for the SOs," Elizabeth swiftly walked over to him.

Carson finished re-bandaging John's shoulder and looked up at her watching as Elizabeth's eyes passed over the soft restraints tying the colonel's wrists to the gurney. She turned a questioning look on him.

Carson sighed. "He woke up and turned violent."

Elizabeth's gaze left his face and scanned over the disheveled mess around her and the haggard appearance of the two SOs Lorne was talking to. "Everyone okay?"

Carson stepped back from John's bed but his gaze remained fixed on the colonel's pale and sweaty face. "Nothing serious, I think. Carolyn got the worst of it, poor lass, but mostly bumps and bruises. Could've been worse."

Elizabeth sighed and turned a grim expression on Carson. "So, it's safe to assume he doesn't recognize where he is or who we are?"

Carson nodded. "Aye. I'm having blood tests performed right now to see what the hell is in his system that's making him this way. Until then, I can't risk giving him anything, even anesthesia for surgery on that shoulder. And until I know what he's been pumped full of, I can't give him anything to counteract it, if that's even possible. It might be something he has to work out of his system on his own. I don't know right now."

Elizabeth's lips tightened into a grimace. "How long before he's out of this?"

"No idea," Carson sighed in frustration. "It depends on the drug. Hopefully, I'll have a better picture before too long."

_He rounded the next corner and staggered, his heart jumping to his throat and his eyes fixing on the gun aimed at him._

"_Got you." The man fired._

_White hot agony tore through John's shoulder and ripped a hoarse cry from him as he lurched backwards and fell. He struggled to stand. He had to fight! Had to survive! _

_He looked up in time to see the man advance, stopping close to him, gun aimed at his head. _

Too close… dumb son of a bitch_. John's lips curled back in a sneer as he lashed out, the hard sole of his combat boot crushing the man's knee._

_His enemy crumpled with a pained cry of his own. John leapt onto him, grappling for the gun. His wound weakened him and the gunshot would bring others. He had to get away!_

_He went for the gun, knowing his opponent would expect it. With his other hand, John drove the knife home, feeling the tip glance off a rib and pop through the intercostal space just below it. _

_John felt no remorse as life faded from his opponent's wide eyes._

_Hot blood poured over John's hand, but he pulled the knife free. Trembling, his body humming, his mind racing, he looked down at his shoulder but paid it little heed. He couldn't. He had to escape. He had to…_

_Survive._

_He tucked the knife into the top of his boot and grabbed the gun. His head snapped around at the sound of voices echoing in the hallway behind him. _

_Others._

_His left arm mashed against his ribcage, he ran down the corridor towards freedom. _

_Escape._

Carson hovered near his patient.

He knew the medical term was 'monitoring,' but Carson believed in calling a spade a spade and what he was doing was hovering. He watched John's muscles twitch, even in unconsciousness and a laundry list of drugs that could alleviate the problem ran through his head but he knew better than to try a single one until he knew what he was dealing with. Alongside that list another long list of possible causes for the muscle twitching ran through his head. Carson sighed. What he needed was answers, not more questions. Blessedly, the colonel hadn't regained consciousness, yet, so the twitching was just that, twitching. Not fighting.

He looked up, meeting Elizabeth's gaze and nodded slightly. Lorne had left a few minutes before to start the effort to find the rest of John's team, after Carson had assured him that it would be a while before John would be of any use. Given John's condition, it was rational to assume the rest of his team was in deep trouble. Time counted when it came to finding them.

"Carson?"

Carson turned quickly, his gaze fixing on Carolyn who held a tablet computer out at him. Her cheek was swollen and turning interesting shades of purple, but her eyes were bright and clear.

Carson walked over to her and took the tablet, his gaze never leaving hers. "How are ye, lass?"

Carolyn smiled, and then winced as it pulled on her tender cheek. "Just bruised. The colonel… he hits pretty hard." A shadow crossed her face and dimmed her light expression.

Carson sighed. "He didn't know what he was doing, Carolyn."

A thin smile returned to Carolyn's face. "I know," she nodded and walked away.

Carson watched her for a moment, before looking down at the toxicology report, his mind clicking together more pieces to the puzzle of John's condition as he read through the details. His jaw dropped as things suddenly became clear. Granted, the lab wasn't familiar with the Pegasus version of the drugs in the colonel's system, but the pharmacological similarities allowed him to pull together a very educated hypothesis, and their findings fell into place with the rest of John's symptoms. Carson inhaled sharply, the completed puzzle painting a picture his gut knew was right.

_John heard the curse a second before a fist impacted his face, snapping his head into the back of the chair hard. _

_Stunned, John's eyelids fell shut as he slumped to the side. Everything was working against him. He couldn't bring his scattered mind together, so he floated, not unconscious but not conscious either._

_The pain in his jaw faded, muted by the increased buzz in his head and tingling that almost vibrated through his skin. Words… phrases… disconnected, echoed in his ears. Disjointed and scattered, coming from a hard voice. _

"…_do this… direct way."_

"_Take him back… wears off… methods… information…."_

_Somewhere in the in-between world he floated in, John's training still rang true._

_Information… __**torture.**_

_They'll break you, John. They… who is they? _

_Doesn't matter! Vital information! Can't tell them… what?_

_Harsh words drilled into his head flashed through his mind. Pieces, fragments, but all with the same meaning._

_Eventually, all men die or are broken. _

_Or both._

_Can't be broken! Can't let them break me!_

_He cracked his eyes open, forcing himself to concentrate over the buzz coursing through him. There were too many guards here, but if only a few took him away, he could escape. Get to the surface. Get to…. Where? He dismissed the confusion. Get away!_

_He was alone. Just him to face… them. _

_He'd have no one but himself to rely on, but he was used to that. He'd get away, win free, not give them a victory, not give them… whatever! He wouldn't give it to them._

_**Escape.**_

_He felt the bonds securing his hands loosen then fall completely away as they were removed right before he was lifted from the chair. He forced himself to remain limp… unsuspecting, unthreatening, just waiting for them to drop their guard. _

_Two men dragged him out of the room and down a long hallway. _

Wait for it… wait… now!

Carson looked up from the tablet as John rapidly awoke, his body straining against his bonds.

"No!" John shouted his body bowing off the gurney. His eyes flew open and fixed on one of the SOs close by. "Bastards!" He dropped his head and flexed his arms against the restraints, but they held fast, ripping a frustrated shout from him.

"Damn it!" Carson dropped the tablet on a nearby table. "Marie!" He pointed at one of the nurses, "six milligrams Diazepam IV, stat!"

_John pulled his rubber legs under himself and jerked his hands free from the men. He leveled one with a right hook and grabbed the knife in the man's belt sheath as he fell. Turning, he slashed out, the blade taking the other man in the throat. _

_John didn't even wince as hot blood splattered across his face. _

_He watched the man fall. _

_He turned back and laid the same treatment on the unconscious man. For a moment, it rankled him to kill someone who wasn't an immediate threat._

_He's the enemy! He'll hunt you! _

_John's training, along with a lifetime of life or death fights, clicked in, taking control of his mindset._

_Kill or be killed._

_His head swam and he shook it, trying to clear his thoughts. The adrenaline of his escape helped. Quickly, he bent to search the first body for weapons, the motion the only thing that saved him as a bullet buried in the wall right where his head had been. Cursing, John clutched the knife close and raced down the hallway._

_**Escape.**_

"Carson?" Elizabeth crossed the infirmary towards him but stopped when he waved her off.

"Not now." He grabbed the syringe from his nurse ran to John's bed, quickly injecting the medication into the colonel's IV.

"NO!" John's crazed eyes fixed on him and he redoubled his fight against the restraints. But his increased heart rate only helped the sedative into his system faster. Before long his body relaxed and his eyes glazed over before closing completely.

Carson capped the syringe and dropped it on a nearby medical table before he grabbed the nearest restraint, quickly undoing it.

"Doc?" One of the SOs questioned him, "what are you doing?"

"Get them off," Carson ordered sharply and Marie immediately set to work on the restraints closest to her.

"Carson?" Elizabeth walked up to him, her expression resolute. "What is going on?"

Carson undid the restraint from John's ankle and turned to face Elizabeth. "Some bloody fool who had no idea what he was doing drugged the hell out of the colonel."

"Okay," Elizabeth nodded, "we guessed as much."

"I don't know what the hell they gave him, the toxicologist can only guess at the Pegasus versions, but whatever they dosed him with, wreaked havoc on his system. He's in acute serotonin overdose."

Elizabeth sighed. "Carson?"

Carson's sigh matched hers. "Serotonin Syndrome occurs usually as the result of mixing two or more drugs, or a high dose of one drug, that overloads the patient's system with serotonin. His symptoms are classic. I should've seen it." He stepped back, scrutinizing John for a moment before his eyes settled on the monitors over the colonel's head, their readings only confirming his diagnosis. "Muscle tremors, tachycardia, fever." He muttered. "Combine that with delusions and hypervigilance… the only thing missing is hypertension, but the blood loss from his gunshot wound has to be affecting that." He nodded to himself and looked at Elizabeth. "Definitely serotonin overdose.

Elizabeth stared evenly at him. "So now we know. How do we treat it?"

Carson took a deep breath as he thought hard. "Well, first thing is to eliminate the medication that's causing it. That's done. We'll keep him on fast moving IV's and try to flush his system. The Diazepam will keep him sedated and calm and keep the muscle tremors under control. That hopefully will prevent muscle breakdown which could have a systemic effect, not the least of which is renal failure as his kidneys try to deal with the byproducts. I just hope we're not too late on that front."

"Carson, you're doing the best you can," Elizabeth interrupted him.

Carson looked over at her thin smile and offered one of his own. "We'll give him Periactin to block serotonin production for now as well." He sighed. "That's the best we can do. The colonel is going to have to work through the rest on his own."

Elizabeth walked closer to John's bed and stared down at him. "How long?"

"Roughly twenty-four hours for it to pass completely," Carson answered. "He might be able to tell us something before then, but I can't guarantee it."

Elizabeth's gaze never left John. "Do what you can."

"_Sheppard…." Ronon's voice held a warning tone._

"_Hold on," John immediately answered, "we don't know anything for sure yet." _

"_They're armed," Ronon answered._

_"As are we," Teyla countered. "And yet we are not hostile by default." _

"_Speak for yourself," Ronon muttered. _

_John rolled his eyes ever so slightly. "Stand by," he ordered. He let go of his P-90 with is right hand and raised it slowly. "Hi!" He shouted out, in his best imitation of a friendly gesture. He lowered his hand and stood quietly, trying to find the balance between not looking threatening, and still being alert and ready for anything. _

_The group stopped, all of them looking to one man who stood in the forefront. He was tall and thin, but held a Genii style gun confidently in his hands. He looked to the man on his left and nodded, before repeating the gesture to the man on his right. As one, the group slowly fanned out, not moving closer but still starting to form a semi-circle around the team._

"_Sheppard." Ronon's voice was more insistent this time._

_John nodded. "Yeah." His instincts synched with Ronon's and a sense of foreboding swept through him. He glanced both ways as his team formed their own semi-circle. On his left, McKay slipped his LSD into his vest and drew his sidearm, though he kept it lowered. Teyla edged up next to Rodney and Ronon planted himself on John's right._

"_Stay alert, but stand by," John ordered quietly. "We might still be able to get out of this, so don't make the first move. We're outgunned and in the open. I don't want to escalate this unless we have no choice."_

"_Who the hell are these guys?" McKay's whisper was emphatic._

"_Doesn't really matter at the moment, does it Rodney?" John glanced at him. He looked back at the apparent leader of the group who stopped his men about twenty feet away. "Look," he called out, trying reason, "we're peaceful travelers. If you want us to leave, we'll go. This doesn't have to get… serious." _

_The leader stared coldly at him over a hooked nose and remained silent. After a moment, he looked up and down the line of his men. He seemed satisfied for a moment, before he looked left, curtly nodding at one of his men._

_John felt like he was watching the events in slow motion. Before he could react, the second man swiftly raised his gun. "DOWN!" John roared as a gunshot echoed around them. He hit the dirt, his blood turning cold at a strangled grunt just to his right. John looked over, his eyes widening at Ronon, clutching his shoulder. "Ronon!" He lifted his gun. "Return fire!" He got off a few shots, before blue energy beams hit the ground next to him._

Elizabeth shifted, trying to alleviate the numbness in her rear from the hard and uncompromising plastic chair, close to John's bed, that she refused to surrender. Lorne had reported in to her an hour ago, informing her that the world-by-world search of each address mined from M9H-060's DHD had started. So far, nothing, and no word from their off-world contacts yet either.

She sighed, trying not to give in to frustration. It took time for intelligence to develop, she knew that. But she also knew that the rest of Colonel Sheppard's team probably didn't have that luxury. They had to be found fast, and while she knew everyone was doing their best, a niggling fear within her said it wouldn't be enough.

Her gaze snapped to John as he moaned quietly, his head moving weakly back and forth. "John?" She stood and bent over his bed, her hand finding his. "John?" she repeated. "Can you hear me?"

_The man arched an eyebrow. "While I would relish the challenge of trying to beat answers out of you, Colonel, I do not have the time for it." He turned and walked over to a nearby wood table. _

_John's eyes widened as the man slowly picked up a syringe filled with pale yellow fluid. Physical abuse he could take, even resist, but when his own body rebelled against him from drugs, that was another matter. _

_John held tight to his defiant air. "What's in the syringe, Doctor Frankenstein?" _

_His captor walked over to him. "Something to make you more… agreeable." Without any ceremony, he jabbed the needle into John's bicep and injected the contents. _

_John's face muscles twitched against the burn in his arm. "What? No alcohol swabs? Not very sterile." _

_His captor's chuckle was more of a grunt than anything. "Keep resisting Colonel Sheppard. At least, keep trying. Before long your agreement will be… guaranteed." _

_John's head began to buzz but he fought it, trying to keep a clear mind. "Oh, I don't know," he answered gamely, "I've always been a pain in the ass to authority." _

"Ma'am." One of the SOs stepped closer, his voice holding a warning tone.

Elizabeth looked up at him. She knew he was edgy with her being so close to John, after what had happened the last time he was conscious, but she shook her head. "I'll take my chances, Sergeant," she said, firmly.

The SO looked like he wanted to argue, but in the end, he just nodded, though he did move closer to the bed.

_John stood, keenly aware of the gun digging into his back. "Wait." He nodded his head at Ronon. "Let me at least bandage his wound." _

_The leader stood, unmoving, staring at John neutrally. _

_John took a step forward, ignoring the other weapons that turned towards him. "If you want any chance of me cooperating with your demands, you let me take care of my team. That's the deal." _

"_Will you guarantee that you will make no trouble if I allow this?" The leader asked, his gaze contemplative._

_John's chortle held no humor. "I guarantee you I will make trouble if you don't let me help him." _

_The leader stared at him for one more moment before nodding. "Very well." He looked at one of his men, holding a TAC vest. "Give him a bandage." _

_John shifted his glare from the leader to the designated man who held out a bandage to him. He ripped it from the man's hand and turned to Ronon. His expression softened slightly as he looked at the bleeding wound. "Bleeding pretty bad, Big Guy." He shook the bandage open._

"_It's not bad," Ronon answered stoically._

"_Bullshit," John immediately replied. He tore Ronon's shirt, pulling the tattered ends away from the wound. He pressed the bandage against the wound, passing one bandage strip under Ronon's arm and the other over his shoulder. Stepping behind his friend, John pulled them tight, ignoring Ronon's tense grunt, and tied them securely. He walked back around and faced Ronon, making a show of adjusting the bandage. "Don't do anything without my order," he whispered and looked up, meeting Ronon's gaze. _

_Ronon stared at him a moment, before giving him a slight nod. _

Elizabeth returned her attention to John. His eyelids fluttered and then opened, revealing a glassy look. The drugs were still in full effect and she seriously doubted he was more than barely conscious.

John's lips parted and he drew in a quiet breath. "Ronon... hurt…"

Elizabeth's gut clenched and she drew in a shaking breath of her own. "Where? Where are they, John?" His glazed look passed over her and she wondered for a moment if he even saw her at all.

"Captured… help…."

"We'll help them John," Elizabeth immediately answered. She doubted his cognitive state but still ran with the long shot that he could shed some light on the mystery of his missing team. She tightened her grip on his hand. "But you have to tell us where they are. Do you understand me? Where are they?"

Confusion mixed with fear on John's face and she felt his fingers tighten around hers in response.

_The interrogator took a step back and straightened. "You __**are **__resilient, Colonel." He walked over to the table and grabbed another syringe of drugs. _

_John tensed, pulling uselessly against the ropes. "Son of a bitch!" he managed as the interrogator jabbed the needle into his arm and injected another dose of drugs. He pulled it free and stepped back._

"_That should take the fight out of you, Colonel." _

_The buzzing in his head turned to a dull roar, insistent and loud enough he almost didn't hear the soft question that floated into his ears. _

"_What is your code, Colonel?" _

_The interrogator's voice was quiet, almost gentle, and John smiled. "Whhat codde?" he slurred. _

"_Your gate code, Colonel. What is it?" The interrogator insisted his voice still calm. _

_John's eyes snapped open, the words hitting him like a bucket of ice water. Gate code! Atlantis! Attack! "Nooo waaay…" he managed, trying to pull his scattered thoughts together. Where was he again? Who… _

_From deep inside, his training, ingrained almost to an instinctual level, kicked in. He was a prisoner, being interrogated, and tortured with drugs, and suddenly it all clicked into place. _

_**Survive. Evade. Resist. Escape. **_

_Resist!_

_John lunged against his bonds and threw his head forward, impacting the interrogator's forehead and sending him staggering. _

"Drugs… no…."

Elizabeth stepped back but never let go of his hand. From the corner of her eye, she saw both SOs move closer, one of them standing right next to her and she could feel his silent tension. Her other hand settled over the top of John's knuckles and she looked over her shoulder. "Carson!" She sent the call through the curtain, not shouting but still conveying a sense of urgency. She looked back at her military commander. "John? It's all right. You're safe."

"Killed them…" He began to thrash weakly on the bed. "Resist…"

Elizabeth's gaze never left John's face as she heard the curtain behind her ruffle before the metal rings screeched against the bar and the curtain was ripped open.

_John was roughly thrown into a chair as the thick metal door scraped across the floor as it closed, the high pitched squeal echoing off the walls. His hands were tightly secured to the chair armrests and the ropes cut into his wrists, but John ignored it. He fixed his captor with a defiant and cocky look. Rule number one of resistance, he remembered, was never let them see fear. _

"_So," he stared hard at the back of one of his captors specifically, the one he knew was the leader, "want to tell me why you took my team and what you want from me, or are we going to play twenty questions?" _

_The leader, a tall thin man in an unrecognizable uniform slowly turned and faced him. "Your reputation precedes you, Colonel Sheppard. Such resistance is… expected." He walked closer to John and stared down at him._

_Still strongly defiant, John stared back quietly, letting his expression say everything. Somehow, he knew what was coming, but the fist connecting with his jaw, still hurt like a bitch and snapped his head hard into the tall back of the wooden chair. _

_John spit blood, the metallic tinge leaving an aftertaste in his mouth, and took a breath before slowly looking up at his captor. "That the best you got? My grandmother could hit harder." _

_The captor slowly bent over, planting his hands on his knees and looking John in the eye. "As can I. But you are useless to me if you can't speak because your jaw is broken." _

_John smiled darkly and held tight to his rebelliousness. "Just don't knock any teeth out. Makes it hell to eat a good steak." _

_The man smiled back, his expression equally as dark, before he straightened and buried a fist in John's gut._

_All the air in his lungs exploded from John's body and he squeezed his eyes shut, forcing his himself to take first one breath, and then another. He coughed a few times and after a minute, he opened his eyes, looking at his captor. "That's better," he managed. _

"Elizabeth?"

She turned, nodding at Carson. "He's awake. I don't know how coherent he is, but he's…"

"Hurt…" John's thrashing grew slightly stronger. "No…"

She looked up as Carson grabbed John's chart, skimmed it before setting it down, and drew up a syringe of medication from a nearby table. "Carson?"

"He's not ready to be fully awake yet. The muscle tremors are still too prevalent and his serotonin levels are too high." He turned and looked at her, syringe in hand. "I have to sedate him."

Elizabeth nodded and returned her attention to John. From her peripheral vision, she saw Carson inject the medication into a port on John's IV. "John? It's okay. We're helping you. You're okay."

His confused gaze fixed on her for a moment, before his eyelids fluttered and closed, the tension leaving his body, his hand going limp in hers.

"_You're such a Neanderthal, you know that?" _

_John smiled, totally unfazed by McKay's remarks. "Football is still better than hockey, Rodney." _

"_Whatever," he huffed. _

_John glanced sideways as McKay focused his attention on the LSD in his hands. "Anything?"_

_McKay snorted. "Lots of things. Nothing of interest." He looked over at John for a moment. "Honestly? We have what… a dozen uninhabited planets cataloged for alpha and beta sites. Do we really need to scout for more?" _

"_It is wise to have as many alternatives as possible," Teyla smoothly interjected from just behind McKay. "The Relegarians have been to this planet before and recommended it to Halling and the last Athosian trading group to visit them. It is worth investigating." _

"_Hello…." McKay stopped abruptly, his gaze fixed on the LSD. _

_John did a double take and froze in his tracks. "What?"_

"_Human life signs," McKay answered. He poked a couple buttons on the LSD. "They just came into range. Twenty or so, converging on our position."_

_Behind him, John heard Ronon draw his gun. "Easy, Chewie," he glanced back at his teammate. "We don't know if they're unfriendly." _

"_We don't know if they're friendly, either," Ronon countered._

_John sighed. "Just don't do anything… rash, okay?"_

_"Me?"_

_John let Ronon's comment go as his hands reflexively tightened on his half raised P-90. "Rodney?" he asked, his voice low. _

"_A hundred yards." McKay looked up. "Just beyond those trees." He looked at Teyla his gaze slightly accusatory. "I thought this planet was uninhabited."_

_"Apparently not," John interjected. "But that's a conversation for later."_

"_Still coming our way," McKay returned his gaze forward._

_John followed McKay's gaze as their mysterious life signs moved through the trees and into the open, heading right for them. Each of them carried guns of varying origin and while they weren't pointed at his team, John still felt uneasy. "Crap," he muttered. "Something tells me those aren't Relegarians?" he asked, in almost a rhetorical way._

"_They are not," Teyla confirmed. _

Gently, Elizabeth lowered his hand back to the bed.

"Did he say anything useful?" Carson asked quietly.

She shrugged and slowly sank back into the hard plastic chair as the SOs backed off a few feet. "Depends on what you call useful. He didn't tell me where to find his team, but he did tell me they were captured," she looked up at Carson, "and that Ronon is injured."

Carson exhaled sharply and looked away from her, shaking his head. "Damn it."

Elizabeth couldn't find the words, so she settled for a nod.

"_Stunners!" McKay yelled over gunfire._

_"What the…" John buried his confusion. They'd shot Ronon with bullets but now several were firing stunners at his team. He shot furiously, taking out four soldiers as the entire group descended on him and his team. He heard sporadic shots from Ronon's gun and rapid fire from McKay's sidearm, but for the second time in as many minutes, a chill went through him as he realized the only P-90 shots he heard were his. Risking a glance to his left, he could just make out Teyla's still form, just beyond McKay._

"_Stunner got her!" McKay ejected his clip and started loading another when abruptly his body arched under the hit of a stun beam. _

_John rolled towards the beam, bringing his gun to bear, and froze, shots unfired. _

_Crouched next to Teyla was the leader. Instead of a stun weapon, or his shotgun, he had a Genii style handgun pressed to the back of Teyla's skull. His eyes were dark as he stared impassively at John. "Drop your weapons and surrender, Colonel Sheppard, or the woman dies." _

_John risked a glance over his shoulder at Ronon, who apparently heard the exchange and stopped shooting. John stared coldly back at the leader. "How the hell do you know who I am?" _

_The man didn't move, save for his gun hand. He pressed the barrel harder against Teyla's head and cocked it. "Drop your weapons or the woman dies," he repeated calmly. _

_John looked down at Teyla's still form for a moment before lowering his P-90 and setting it on the ground next to him. He again looked back at Ronon, noting his teammate's pale and sweaty face. John nodded, watching as the big man slowly lowered his gun. _

_The leader didn't move. "Your sidearm and knife too, Colonel." He looked at Ronon. "And your knives, Ronon Dex." _

_John laid his .45 and knife next to his P-90, his gaze never leaving the man as others rushed in, removing the weapons. John was roughly pulled to his knees and stripped of his TAC vest. Teyla and Rodney received similar treatment, their unconsciousness not seeming to earn them any gentler handling. Both were dropped unceremoniously to the ground once they were relieved of weapons and TAC vests._

_John bit his tongue, keeping his anger in check. "So, what now? Shoot all of us? Seems like a lot of trouble just to kill us."_

"_You are far more valuable alive, Colonel," the leader replied. He gestured in an offhand manner at Ronon. "That one was shot to make a point." His gaze turned deadly as he locked eyes with John. "We wish to take you alive, but we will not tolerate any trouble from you or your team. Attempt to escape, harm, or kill any one of my men, or make any trouble whatsoever, and you will be killed without hesitation. Are we clear, Colonel?" _

_John let his own expression darken even more. "Clear," he answered, his voice unintimidated._

_The man smiled slightly, his expression holding no humor. "I would welcome a fight with you, Colonel." _

_John cocked his head, a cold smile turning up one side of his mouth. "Any time you're ready, asshole." _

_The leader chuckled and stood. He motioned at Teyla and McKay. "Grab them."_

Carson sighed as he gently pulled back the privacy curtain, his gaze passing from the unconscious colonel to Elizabeth. She was as motionless as John, her gaze distant as she sat next to his bed. He looked up at one of the SOs, who shrugged.

Carson's lips pressed into a thin line. "Elizabeth, that chair can't be comfortable."

She started, jumping slightly before looking up at him. A small, wry smile played at her mouth. "Not really, no."

His gaze passed over her body, his mind reflexively evaluating her. She'd lost weight recently, no doubt from the stresses of command. Carson's brow furrowed. She'd been in that chair, hardly moving for ten hours. "Elizabeth, go get something to eat and rest. I'll call you if anything happens, I promise." He stared evenly back as her eyes narrowed in determination.

"I'm not really hungry, Carson, and I don't need any sleep right now."

Carson matched her stare and every ounce of stubbornness she put behind it. The lass was strong-headed when she wanted to be; she had to be to run this place. Still, he wasn't going to back down that easily. When it came to the medical well being of everyone, he was in charge. "Elizabeth…" Carson's voice trailed off as a weak moan from John caught both their attentions.

Elizabeth practically jumped out of her chair and was instantly at John's side.

"John?" She grabbed his hand. "John? Can you hear me?"

Carson swiftly walked around to the other side of the bed and grabbed John's chart, scanning the medication schedule. He was surprised to see the colonel even somewhat awake at this point, with his last dose of Diazepam given not that long ago. Carson scanned John's body, noting the diminished muscle tremors. Definite progress.

"John?" Elizabeth repeated. She looked up at Carson and furrowed her brows in an unvoiced question.

Carson shrugged. "He could be waking up. It's hard to say." Carson tried a small reassuring smile. "But he's definitely improving."

_The leader waved his hand in an almost dismissive manner. "We return to the gate, now. Bind their hands."_

_John's dark gaze fixed on the leader and never wavered as his hands were roughly pulled behind him and securely tied together. He heard Ronon grunt when his shoulder was jostled as guards secured his hands as well. Two men, each with one of McKay's arms draped over their shoulders, dragged the scientist along while another roughly hiked Teyla over his shoulder. Another guard bound her hands._

_John walked close to Ronon, watching him as they were marched back to the gate. As the leader walked over to the DHD, John shifted slightly to his left, and unbeknownst to the soldiers around him, he got a clear view of the DHD. Watching, he burned each glyph into his head. _

_Ecrumig… Roehi… Subido… Arami…._

John took a deep, quiet breath and his eyes cracked open. "Sal…ma… Ara…mi…."

Carson cocked his head slightly. "What's this now?"

Elizabeth shook her head, her gaze never leaving John's face. "It's Ancient."

Carson's confusion only deepened. "The colonel doesn't speak Ancient, does he?"

Elizabeth glanced up at him, her confused look as deep as his. "No. The only Ancient he knows are the gate glyphs…" her eyes widened. "Oh my god, those are names of Pegasus glyphs!" With her free hand she waved at Carson as she looked back down at John's face. "Carson, write these down! It's a gate address!"

Carson's confusion melted away as he all but ripped a pen from his lab coat pocket. A dozen questions flew through his head, but he stifled them. He pulled a blank chart page from the back of the colonel's record and started scrabbling down the names on the blank back side of the page. "How the bloody hell do you spell these?"

Elizabeth waved at him again, "just write it down how you hear it, Carson. We'll figure it out later." Her free hand descended gently to John's brow. "John? Keep talking. What's the address?"

John's head moved weakly against the pillow. "Ara…mi… Ecru…mig, Subid…o… Roe…hi…." His voice trailed off as his eyes shut. His body relaxed and stilled.

Carson scratched down the last glyph name and looked up at the monitors over John's head. "He's out again, at least I think he is."

Elizabeth straightened and stepped back from the bed. "That was… five?" She looked over at Carson who handed her the paper.

"Aye, but he said Arami twice, so it could be six."

Elizabeth's brows quirked in thought. "Possibly, or he just repeated himself, but it's a start." She tapped her headset. "Doctor Zelenka, Major Lorne, please report to the infirmary immediately."

_John stumbled as he stepped from the wormhole onto the new planet. He looked around, shivering slightly at the brisk autumn air. Deciduous trees greeted his gaze with a plethora of fall colors, leaves scattering to the wind as breezes ruffled their branches. Any other day, he'd find the scene pretty; autumn was his favorite season, but today it held no beauty. Ironically, he added that to his list of things to curse these guys for. He reinforced his defiance with one strange thought:_

_They had no right to ruin a perfectly nice autumn day. _

_John looked over at Ronon and scrutinized his stoic expression. To anyone who didn't know him, it would appear his wound didn't bother him as much as the blood stained bandage indicated it should, but to John, who had made it his business to read the often subtle emotions in his quiet teammate's face, he could see the pain and even a hint of weakness. "How you holdin' up?" he asked quietly._

_Ronon looked down at him. "I'm good." _

_John cocked a brow. "Sure, you are." He stared back, meeting Ronon's fierce gaze with a determined one of his own. "Hang in there. We'll get out of this." _

"_What… who… What the hell is going on?"_

_John followed the voice to McKay, who pulled himself up between the two guards that had been half dragging, half carrying him._

"_Let go of me you thugs!" McKay jerked his arms lose but froze as three guns were instantly trained on him. _

"_Rodney," John's voice was quiet, deep, and determined. He waited until McKay turned and looked at him. Slowly, John shook his head, his expression turning wary. _

_McKay's eyes widened as he looked around before returning his gaze to John. He nodded slightly and lowered his hands. "Fine. Agreeable prisoner it is, thank you very much." _

"_Commander," the man carrying Teyla knelt and dumped her on the ground. "I think she is waking up."_

_John swiftly walked over to her, ignoring the guns that tracked his every move. He slowly knelt next to her, his movement hindered by bound hands. "Teyla?"_

_Teyla's eyes opened and she looked confused for a moment, before she tensed and sat up, planting her bound hands in the dirt. She looked around and then at John. "Colonel?" _

"_You okay?" he asked, slightly concerned. _

_The confusion fled her eyes as she stared at the guards. She looked back to John and nodded once. "My head is aching, but I am fine."_

_"Damned stunners," he answered, giving her a quick, muted smile. _

"_Enough," the leader poked John in the back with the end of his gun. "Get up." _

_A guard roughly hauled John to his feet while another did the same for Teyla. _

_The leader motioned to his men. "Now that they are all awake, keep them separated." The guards quickly shuffled around, rearranging themselves so each team member was cut off from the other by at least two guards. Without a word, the leader marched them off down a well-worn path from the gate. _

Carson looked down at his unconscious patient. He heard the optimism in Elizabeth's voice but part of him couldn't subscribe to it. Concerned, he looked at her, waiting a moment until she met his gaze. "Elizabeth, he's drugged and hallucinating. Who knows what he was thinking at that moment?" Carson shook his head. "The information is unreliable at best."

She looked away, saying nothing, but he could see the conflict in her face.

Abruptly, the privacy curtain opened, admitting both Lorne and Zelenka.

"What's going on?" Lorne asked his gaze passing from Elizabeth to Carson and finally settling on John.

Elizabeth thrust the paper at Zelenka. "Colonel Sheppard woke up briefly. Just long enough to give us the names of five Pegasus glyphs. I think he was trying to give us a gate address."

Carson's gazes met Lorne's apprehensive one as the major took a deep breath. "How coherent was he, doc?"

Carson shook his head. "Not very. He's still pretty drugged."

"I know what you're thinking, Major," Elizabeth interrupted.

Her face held no malice and Carson watched Lorne visibly relax in response.

Elizabeth's smile was thin. "Right now, we have nothing else to go on besides a list of over fifty gate addresses. It's a long shot, but what if this information is useful? We have no other way to filter the list of addresses except with what Colonel Sheppard was able to tell us." She looked at Zelenka who, until now, had been staring at Carson's list. "Radek, I want you to compare these glyphs against our list of addresses and prioritize them based on how many matches this partial address has against the list."

Zelenka nodded. "Yes. This I can do. The planets with five matches we will search first, and then ones with four matches and so on."

Elizabeth nodded. "Yes, exactly. He did say Arami twice, but it was back to back. He could've been repeating himself."

"I will consider this," Zelenka nodded. "Yes." He looked up at Elizabeth. "May I go?"

She smiled briefly. "Go. Keep me posted."

Carson's look passed from Elizabeth to Lorne as Zelenka disappeared through the privacy curtain. The major's expression was still hesitant but also thoughtful.

Elizabeth slowly sank into her chair. "You don't have to say it, Major." She cocked a brow at Lorne. "I agree. The information is unreliable."

Lorne nodded. "Yes, ma'am. We're playing a hunch." One side of his mouth turned up slightly. "But we've played worse hunches than this."

Elizabeth mirrored Lorne's smile. "Yes, we have." She sighed deeply. "Get on it and let me know when you're ready to start the new searches."

Lorne nodded. "Yes, ma'am." He quickly disappeared through the curtain.

_John twisted his wrists against the bonds that secured his hands behind his back, but as many times as he tried, they refused to loosen. The path the group followed, meandered through the trees, widening as the forest thinned, before it ended at the tree line bordering a large field. A sheer cliff wall stretched upward at the edge of the field, and as they moved closer, John could see a cave entrance, guarded by two men who snapped a salute at the leader. _

_One of the guards turned to a solid metal door blocking the cave entrance and pulled back on a heavy bolt, releasing it. The door swung outwards, and the soldiers, along with John's team, passed through the dark entrance._

_John's eyes took a moment to adjust, but when they did, he found the long, rectangular tunnel to be dimly lit by torches strategically placed every twenty feet or so. They proceeded deeper into the cave network, taking several turns to follow different hallways. The place was a maze, but John mentally kept track of each turn they took. There weren't as many men as he expected to see, but he didn't voice it. If they could make a clean break, they might stand a chance, but he'd have to plan it carefully. His mind turning over the problem, John remained silent, waiting for a chance to talk to his team and form a plan. _

_At last, they were led to what looked like a cell, the door blocking it reminding John of pictures he'd seen of eighteenth century prison cells. The door looked like it was made of cast iron, secured with a sturdy bolt and one barred rectangular window about a third of the way down from the top. _

_One of the guards heaved the door open and Teyla, Ronon, and McKay, the bonds around their wrists cut, were roughly ushered into the cell. John started to follow, only to be grabbed by two guards and restrained. _

"_Not yet, Colonel," the leader smiled coldly. "There are some things you and I need to talk about."_

_"Wait just a damned minute," John started only to be cut off as one guard punched him roughly in the gut. John's knees buckled as the air rushed from his body._

"_Colonel!" Teyla shouted but the door was slammed in her face._

_John heard the bolt slide home, securing the door, and he looked up, meeting Ronon's heated gaze through the bars. John coughed once. "Be back in a bit," he croaked. His gaze narrowed. "Take care of them," he managed, before he was roughly pulled away._

Elizabeth stared at John's quiet face. She'd barely left his side since this ordeal started fifteen hours ago, and yet she didn't feel they were any closer to finding his team. Her thoughts dwelled on Rodney, Teyla, and Ronon. Right now, no one knew if they were even alive, but she refused to believe anything else until it was proven to her.

A slight smile turned up one corner of her mouth. That sounded like something John Sheppard would say. 'Show me a body, Elizabeth, and then I'll believe they're dead.' Her eyes narrowed. John returning to Atlantis alone, leaving his team to captivity and possible death went against everything he stood for. While she knew he would've never done it had he not been drugged literally out of his mind, she knew once he was coherent again, he wouldn't see it as anything but abandoning them. He would never forgive himself if something happened to any one of them.

She sighed. If they could just find the team before he woke up…. "It's not your fault, John," she whispered.

_John's lips pressed into a thin line as he tried to tell which of the two images in his doubled vision was the real McCoy. _

_Both images walked closer to him. "Now, Colonel. As I asked before. What is your code?" _

_John drew in a deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before they snapped open and he focused on the interrogator. "Go to hell." _

_The interrogator's expression could've been one of respect. John wasn't sure. Everything was fuzzy to him. A warm feeling spread through him, waves of calmness flowing over him, and he was abruptly reminded of being stoned in college. Sure, he'd smoked a little pot. Back then, everyone in college did at one time or another. Stoned… little Pink Floyd – The Wall… _

_Comfortably Numb…. _

_John shook his head, trying to clear it. His mind latched onto his team, stuck in a cell somewhere, separated from him and at the mercy of these bastards, and the calming, relaxed feeling went away. John inhaled another deep breath, his hard gaze sharpening. _

"Ma'am?"

Lorne's quiet voice interrupted her thoughts and she looked up as the major parted the privacy curtain and walked up next to John's bed. "We've started scouting the planets whose addresses have all five symbols the Colonel gave to us. There're fifteen of them."

Elizabeth sat up straighter. "Fifteen?" She shook her head. "I was hoping that list would be shorter, Major."

Lorne nodded. "Me too, ma'am, but three of those symbols, Salma, Arami and Subido are very common. Subido, as you know, is the PoO for Atlantis. Almost any address containing it, along with Arami represents coordinates in one of the most densely populated sectors of the galaxy. There're a high number of gates and a high number of populated worlds in that close of proximity, relatively speaking, to Atlantis."

"Then they could be on a populated world?" Elizabeth looked back to John.

"Yes, ma'am," Lorne answered. "But with subcutaneous transmitters, we shouldn't have a problem distinguishing them from other humans."

Elizabeth looked up at him again, sensing his hesitation. "What is it, Major?"

"Ma'am, one of the addresses that contains all five glyphs belongs to Atlantis," Lorne answered quietly.

She looked away from him, her gaze momentarily fixing on the far wall as the implications of his words hit home with her. "You think it's possible in his delirium he was just reciting Atlantis' address to us?"

"I don't know, but it's possible," Lorne shifted his feet. "In which case, this is a wild goose chase."

"And randomly picking one address at a time from a list of over fifty isn't, Major?" She looked back at him as Lorne's shoulders sagged slightly.

"Point taken, ma'am," he replied.

"Thank you, Major," she responded quietly. "Please keep me posted."

"Yes, ma'am," Lorne answered and turned to leave.

"Evan?" Elizabeth's voice halted him and he turned to look at her. She smiled slightly. "Thank you for being honest with me."

A ghost of a smile passed over Lorne's face before he nodded. "You're welcome, ma'am." He turned away and left her alone with John.

She stared hard at John's still, almost vulnerable face and she found the thought of John Sheppard being vulnerable a disquieting one to say the least. Leaning forward in her chair, she gently squeezed his hand. "Come on, John," she whispered. "Snap out of it."

_John crouched behind a rock and peeked around its edge. His hands and knees shook, blood freely seeped from his shoulder, soaking the side of his shirt that stuck to his ribcage, weakening him._

_His mind raced, fleeting from one thought to another. _

_**Escape.**_

_The cold hard object in his pocket poked him in the flank and sparked an overwhelming need to keep it close. _

_105-69BC38…._

_He twisted, looking behind him. Voices just on the other side of the tree line captured his attention. He turned his narrowed gaze back to the gate. Only three guards here. More coming. He had to act now. _

_He took a deep breath and stood, strangely steady._

_He dropped the first guard with three shots. The other two scattered, seeking cover. _

_He fired again and one more crumpled dead from his shots. _

_He ducked behind the rock, bullet torn pieces of stone bouncing off his head._

_Standing, he fired the last of his ammo as the guard dove for cover. John sneered. Wounded. _

_He dropped the useless gun and pulled his knife. He paid little heed to the shouts and crashing in the woods behind him._

_Powered by adrenaline, John sprinted to another cover, but no gunfire answered his movement. He peeked up from behind his cover, staring at another piece of rubble he knew the guard had dived behind._

_Nothing._

_He eased out from behind cover, gritting his teeth at his stumbling, weak gait. An iron hard will took over. He wouldn't give in. Not now. Not this close to… close to what? _

_**Escape.**_

_He stared at the glassy gaze of the one surviving guard, clutching his side with one hand and trying to raise a gun with the other. _

_John dropped to his knees and buried the knife deep in the man's chest. _

_He looked over his shoulder, the noise and voices in the trees getting louder. He struggled to stand, cursing as he reached a crouch, only to have his knees buckle. He couldn't stop now! Couldn't give up! He pushed himself to his knees, and then struggled to his feet. He staggered but refused to surrender as he stumbled the short distance to the DHD, falling into it heavily. He stared at the glyphs for a moment, his mind racing._

_Suddenly his mind screeched to a halt. Symbols, all in a specific order, flashed through his head. _

_Safe?_

_Where? Who? _

_Here, he's dead. There? A fighting chance to live. _

_Still holding the knife, he stabbed each glyph with his knuckles, watching as they lit up before slamming his fist down on the center globe. He looked up._

_Wormhole. Escape!_

_Suddenly, he knew what the device was for. An errant thought flashed through his head._

_GDO!_

_105-69BC38. _

_The number, which had been a mantra in his head since his escape, spilled out through his hands and he punched it into the device without hesitation. The device slipped from his hand and he grabbed his knife._

_A bullet pinged off the DHD and he flinched before looking back. _

_He sneered at the reinforcements charging at him._

_His legs were leaden, but he forced them to move, his gate uneven as he staggered towards the wormhole. His legs folded, sending him sprawling to the ground with a rough cry._

"_No!" His strangled voice still held defiance and drove back the spots in his vision. He forced his legs under himself. _

_Staggering, his path was erratic, but he focused on only one goal. _

_**Escape.**_

_With one, last burst of strength, pulled from somewhere deep within, he leapt across the event horizon. _

Darkness faded and as John struggled upwards, seeking the light, seeking consciousness, and awareness returned. In that moment, his body let him know, in no uncertain terms, how pissed it was at him. He felt like day old road kill that had been run over by a semi. Every muscle in his body screamed at him and even his hair hurt. He squeezed his eyelids tightly, not letting them open, wishing he could fall back into painless bliss, but his body stubbornly refused and he groaned in weak protest.

"John?"

The light voice, tinged with fatigue and concern acted as a lifeline. Surrendering to consciousness, John cracked his eyelids open, blinking against the bright overhead lights. He let his eyes close again and turned his head, another feeble groan escaping him. He heard a shuffle by his bed and a curtain being pulled.

"Carson? He's awake."

A warm, gentle hand took his and squeezed reassuringly. "John? It's Elizabeth. You're on Atlantis. You're going to be okay."

John opened his eyes again, this time meeting her concerned gaze. "Elizabeth," he whispered.

She smiled wide in relief. "Yes. Carson's on his way. Just relax."

The longer he was conscious, the more aware he became, and on the edges of her expression he saw tension, worry, and hesitation and he wondered about all of them. His eyes narrowed, and it had nothing to do with the bright lights. "What happened?" he rasped.

Elizabeth's smile faded. "What do you remember?"

John closed his eyes, thinking back and in a moment's rush, everything came to him. Captured… taken to another world… the interrogation… Drugs! His team locked in a cell. Prisoners!

His eyes snapped open. "Where's my team?" He croaked and felt Elizabeth's grip tighten on his hand.

"John…."

"Where, Elizabeth?" He insisted, urgency strengthening his voice, if slightly.

She looked away from him and his heart skipped a beat. "Where…" he tried to push his elbows under himself but fell back, crying out as searing pain shot through his left shoulder. His eyes slid shut and his head spun. He felt Elizabeth's hand on his chest.

"John, stop."

Panting, he opened his eyes, his gaze following her waving gesture and fixing on two SOs hovering nearby. _What the hell? _ Fighting pain, his gaze locked on hers. His head was still fuzzy and he felt worse than crap, but he threw as much strength into his expression as he could muster. "Where?" He insisted, his voice still too weak for his liking.

"We don't know where they are, John, but we're doing everything we can to find them," she answered quietly.

He couldn't tear his gaze from hers even as his peripheral vision caught the privacy curtain whipping back and Carson breezing in.

"Colonel? Just relax, lad. You've been through a hell of a lot." Carson grabbed his wrist, searching for a pulse as he scanned the monitors over John's head.

"How'd I… get back?" John narrowed his eyes, willing Elizabeth to keep looking square at him.

"We're not sure of the details," she answered, her expression hesitant, "but it appears you escaped, killed several guards, and were wounded in the process, but you managed to get away."

Her words hit him like a two-mile freight train going full out. The pain in his shoulder faded away, replaced with numbness, and any strength he'd salvaged in the few minutes he'd been conscious faded under shock. "I… I left them… behind?" he managed.

"John," Elizabeth's answer was immediate and her voice firm. "You were drugged and violently delusional. We had to sedate you for your own protection and everyone around you. There's no way you knew what you were doing. This isn't your fault."

"Like hell it isn't," he whispered, the numbness replaced with fear and guilt.

"John," Elizabeth insisted, "you were not in any sort of sane frame of mind whatsoever. You may not have even remembered them in your altered state. You can't blame yourself for this."

John dug deep, finding that strength again. He squeezed his eyes shut and took a couple of deep breaths as he tried to focus his thoughts. "Where are we with… finding them?"

"Not now," Carson interrupted. "Major Lorne is handling that. Your body's been through the ringer and you need to rest and recover. Your shoulder still needs to be addressed surgically and you lost a lot of blood. Biochemically…."

Through sheer willpower, John lifted his head off the pillow. "Carson," His interruption was weak and his voice rough, but the doctor fell silent. John's head fell back against his pillow and he panted for a moment. "Do you really… think," he gasped, "I can rest right now, knowing my team… is out there and in danger?" He blinked hard, fighting a bout of nausea. John's gaze switched from Carson to Elizabeth as the doctor looked to her for a cue.

Her attention was still focused on him. She looked him in the eye for a moment, the steeled expression he'd come to know so well, gradually giving way to understanding; strong but compassionate. She looked up at Carson. "We need his help."

Carson sighed loudly. "Ach! I want to find them as much as you do, but the colonel's condition is still serious."

"Carson," Elizabeth gently interrupted.

Carson looked away from both of them, his lips tightening. "If there was any other way…." His head snapped back towards them. He fixed John with a fierce gaze and pointed down at him. "You will not move from that bed, not that I think you could get far anyway, but knowing you, Colonel, you'd try. We get your team back and you will do whatever I tell you, rest and recover. Clear?"

"Crystal." John answered. He looked back at Elizabeth. "I know the gate address where they are. " He closed his eyes, trying to focus his thoughts. "I saw it when we dialed out from M9H-060."

"You gave us five glyph names while you were drugged," Elizabeth interrupted, "but we weren't sure if they were right or even in sequence."

John looked back at Carson. "Give me something… to write on."

Carson pulled a prescription tablet and a pen from various pockets in his lab coat. He ripped off one piece of paper, turned it over, laid the tablet on the colonel's lap and held it while he held the pen out to John.

His left arm immobile, John accepted Carson's help without comment. His hand shook as he quickly scratched out the seven symbols of the address. "Here." He held the paper up to Elizabeth, the shaking in his hand only intensifying.

She looked at his hand for a moment, the weak shaking not lost on her before she took the paper from him.

John's hand dropped to the bed. "Get Lorne… down here. I need to brief him." John panted lightly and resisted the urge to reach up and wipe the sheen of sweat on his forehead. "He needs to know… what he's facing and where to find… my team."

"John," Elizabeth started, "Lorne can…"

"No," John interrupted. "The compound is… a maze. He… he needs to know where to… go."

Elizabeth quickly tapped her headset. "Major Lorne, this is Doctor Weir. Colonel Sheppard is awake. Report to the infirmary immediately."

"Get me a damned… radio," John insisted. He winced at the pain in his shoulder, his expression not unnoticed by Carson.

"I can give you something for that," Carson reasoned quietly.

John shook his head. "Hard enough to keep my head… straight," he admitted bitterly, knowing his statement probably wouldn't surprise Carson in the least. "No drugs. Not… yet."

"You've already had them, Colonel," Carson's expression was unapologetic. "You don't honestly think the pain from that shoulder wouldn't completely incapacitate you without medications, do you?" A slightly bemused smile tugged at Carson's mouth. "You have a high pain tolerance, but not that high. Once we knew what you'd been drugged with, I was able to give you other medications to help ye."

John closed his eyes again. No wonder he was swimmy-headed. "No more. Not… not yet." He opened his eyes and looked over at Elizabeth. "It's… important. A new threat to Atlantis."

Lorne's gaze was focused as he wove through personnel, his quick stride taking him to the infirmary. He knew Zelenka hurried along, just to his right; he didn't need to look to see the Czech scientist to know he was there.

_Colonel Sheppard is awake…_

Doctor Weir's words echoed in Lorne's head and part of him was relieved. He didn't doubt for a second his ability to do his job, nor did he have any false hopes about the colonel being in any sort of shape to be in command again, but Lorne still felt reassured that the colonel was awake. Not only because it meant the colonel was, most likely, going to be okay, but because simply by being involved, Lorne had no doubt their chances of finding Teyla, Ronon, and Rodney and brining them home safely had just dramatically increased.

Lorne's brows quirked. Naturally, the colonel would be helpful, since he most likely had intel that would help them find their missing friends, but it was more than that. In Colonel Sheppard, Lorne had seen a man who had an unwavering ability to succeed, even when the odds were hopelessly stacked against him. A lot of it, Lorne believed, was Sheppard's tenacity and grip on a strong set of core values that he never compromised, one of which was never leaving someone behind. But it also was the colonel's uncanny knack for thinking outside the box. He was an unorthodox officer to say the least, but that style fit like a glove for the command position he held, on an outpost in a galaxy that didn't play by the US military's rules or even Earth's customs. The Geneva Convention was well and good until you faced enemies that simply wanted to kill you and would stop but nothing to do it. Sheppard had the ability to not only see where the rules applied, but also where they didn't.

It had been a hard thing for Lorne to accept at first. He'd played by the book for a long time, but a few years at the SGC and going off world in the Milky Way had changed his perspective. Being transferred to Atlantis and serving as Sheppard's XO had cured him of any rigid viewpoint once and for all.

"This is a good thing," Zelenka commented quietly as he rushed along, trying to keep up with Lorne. "Hopefully, Colonel Sheppard can provide us with the additional information we need to find Rodney and the others."

Lorne nodded. "There's no doubt in my mind, doc," he answered confidently. "This is the colonel we're talking about. He's got intel. I guarantee it." He glanced at Zelenka who nodded silently.

Lorne didn't even break stride as the large, main doors to the infirmary parted before him. The privacy curtain surrounding Sheppard's corner was pulled back and Lorne's gaze instinctively landed on his CO.

Sheppard was propped up on several pillows, but he didn't look like he could even raise his head off them. His gaze caught the motion of Lorne and Zelenka walking towards him and he immediately turned his head, focusing his gaze on Lorne's. Sheppard's eyes were groggy, but even from a short distance away, Lorne could see a spark of strength in them.

Lorne walked up next to his bed, just to the right of Doctor Weir. He nodded once, curtly at the colonel. "Good to see you awake, sir."

Sheppard nodded back. "Major," his voice was rough and he panted slightly, "I have the address… where my team is. But, you need to know… what you're facing."

"Yes, sir," Lorne answered. His heart rate jumped as the prospects of an imminent combat mission became almost a certainty. "Give me whatever intel you have and I'll get a team together immediately."

"Don't know… who they… are. Never seen them… before. But, they have technology about like the Genii. Probably got radios so… use a secure channel."

Lorne's gaze narrowed. "Why did they target your team, sir?"

Sheppard's jaw clenched and his expression turned dark. "They got a… 'protection' racket going with several worlds… including the Relegarians." He glanced at Elizabeth, who stiffened and nodded.

"The Relegarians set you up," she said quietly, her words more a statement than a question.

Sheppard nodded. "Yeah. Bullied into it… probably. We were… were ambushed on M9H-060."

Elizabeth crossed her arms, her gaze narrowing. "We'll sever contact with the Relegarians and warn the Athosians," she said quietly.

Sheppard looked back at Lorne. "They didn't like us interfering. Helping worlds they… protect."

Lorne stifled the anger that rose within him. Nothing pissed him off more than bullies terrorizing innocent people. "Why were they interrogating you, sir? What did they want from you?"

"My IDC," Sheppard responded quietly, his expression growing even darker. "They wanted to send… a bomb through the gate to… Atlantis."

"Oh my God," Elizabeth muttered.

"We'll need to change… my code," John answered. "I lost my GDO in the… the escape after I sent my code through."

"I will lock the code out immediately," Zelenka answered.

"What can you tell me about where you were held, sir?" Lorne asked.

Sheppard's lips tightened for a moment. "It's a fortified cave compound about a klick… south of the gate. There tree cover ends about a half klick… from the gate. They'll be able… to see you coming." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before continuing. "There were two guards on a main door… cut into the side of the cliff." His eyes slid shut again, his brow furrowing.

Lorne's thoughts raced. They'd have a hell of a fight on their hands once they were spotted, before they even got inside to find the rest of Sheppard's team. His gaze narrowed. This would get ugly fast if they didn't find some way to keep the mission covert as long as possible. He thought for a moment. _Two guards…._ "Sir, would a sniper be effective from the tree line? Would the terrain allow it?"

Sheppard's eyes snapped open and he stared at Lorne for a minute, before a dark, challenging smile turned up one side of his mouth, in spite of his weakened condition. "Yeah. Definitely. Take Kellerman. If anyone can… get a clean shot in those… conditions, it's him."

Lorne nodded. "With a silencer, Kellerman can take out the guards, and hopefully, no one will see our approach." He couldn't help the small smile that flashed across his face. In spite of his condition, the colonel was still a sharp thinker and knew his men. Kellerman was the perfect choice. Lorne swore the Marine sniper could shoot a flea off a dog's ear from a mile away in high winds.

"Once you're inside," Sheppard continued, "it's a maze of joining hallways." Once again, he closed his eyes, his brows furrowing in concentration. His eyes remained shut as he spoke again. "Take the first right hand hallway… follow it past two intersections and take a left." He paused then continued. "Then take another right at the next intersection… and a right two intersections after that." His eyes opened and he looked at Lorne. "That will take you directly to the cell… where my team is. Got it?"

Lorne looked away for a moment and repeated Sheppard's words in his head. He nodded once and looked back. "Got it."

Sheppard's gaze was unquestioning as he apparently took Lorne's reassurances at face value. "There were guards all over the place… when I escaped." A shadow crossed Sheppard's face, but it was fleeting and he quickly buried it. "I don't know how many, but with a compound that… size, it stands to reason there're a lot. But, they're probably spread out… all over the place. If you can do this quietly, you might get in and out… without facing too much resistance."

Lorne sighed, frustration seeping through in his expression. Part of him itched to go in with overwhelming forces and crush these guys, eliminating the threat to Atlantis and their allies, but he knew that wasn't the mission this time. "Wouldn't mind taking out at least a few of 'em, sir," he muttered.

Sheppard grunted quietly. "I appreciate the sentiment… Major. No one wants to dish out some ass kicking more than I do, but… the first priority is… to get our people back safe."

Lorne nodded. "As much as I'd like to make these bastards pay for all of this, I get your point, sir."

"We can send a MALP through to scout the area around the gate," Zelenka offered.

Sheppard shook his head. "No. The gate wasn't guarded when we… came through but that doesn't mean it isn't now. We can't risk… tipping our hand."

"That means Lorne's team goes in blind," Elizabeth interjected. "The gate could be heavily fortified by now."

Sheppard's gaze fixed on her. "I know," he answered quietly.

Lorne took a deep breath. "With all due respect ma'am," he looked at Weir, "I know the risks, and I'll make sure my teams do, too. This is the best chance for success. If the gate isn't guarded, or only lightly guarded, and we can take control quickly, we can still go stealth on this."

"Have two teams of Marines on standby in the Gate Room in case… things get hot, Major," Sheppard blinked hard, clearly trying to concentrate. "Take your team and a team of those… Army Rangers with you as well. They've been itching to get out and do something… anyway. They're ideal for a mission like this."

"Along with Kellerman," Lorne answered.

Sheppard nodded. "Along with Kellerman. Questions?"

Lorne shook his head. "No, sir." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a radio headset. He held it out to Sheppard. "Thought you might want this, sir."

A smile, weak but genuine, sprang to Sheppard's face. "There's a reason why you're my… XO." He reached up with his good arm and took the radio, before fitting it over his right ear.

Lorne's smile matched Sheppard's. "Yes, sir," he answered simply. He noticed the shake in Sheppard's hand but decided not to comment about it. Frankly, he was surprised his CO had managed to tell them as much as he had. To Lorne, the shaking in his hand was human, not a sign of weakness, and he didn't mind seeing it in commander.

Sheppard took a deep breath, his amusement fading. "Bring my team back... Lorne." His voice was somewhat tense, probably in frustration at his inability to lead the fight, but Lorne also heard a subtle plea.

_Never leave a man behind…._

Lorne knew the facts and knew without a doubt that none of this was Sheppard's fault; that leaving his team behind was not a conscious choice. Lorne knew Sheppard was rational and pragmatic and knew the same thing. But he also knew exactly how he'd feel in Sheppard's position, and that feeling was what he saw lingering behind the stoicism of the colonel's expression. "Yes, sir," he answered confidently. "We'll damn sure bring them back."

Sheppard nodded, but this time it was fatigued and slow. "Get to it… Major."

Lorne snapped a quick salute to his CO. "Yes, sir." He knew it wasn't necessary, Sheppard had made that plain more than once, but he did it anyway.

Sheppard's face was unreadable. His hand lifted slightly off the bed and he waved in recognition.

Lorne turned and walked briskly from the infirmary, Zelenka right behind him.

Elizabeth scrutinized John's but stoic expression as Carson left her alone with him. The hard mask of command peeking out from the groggy weakness was unmistakable, and she expected it. But she'd also heard the note of guilt in his voice when he'd ordered Lorne to bring his team back. John must've sensed her watching as his gaze left the infirmary doors when Lorne disappeared and settled on her face. She smiled slightly, an expression he didn't return.

Looking away, his gaze fell to his blanket covered legs but he said nothing.

Elizabeth slowly sat down in the all too familiar plastic chair. "Lorne will get your team back, John," she said, quietly.

John nodded. "I know. If we're not… too late."

She sighed quietly at the slightly berating tone of his voice. She knew it wasn't directed at her, or Lorne, or anyone else, only at himself. "This isn't your fault." She knew she was repeating herself, but it was a statement worth repeating.

John grunted quietly. "Havin' a hard time with… that, Elizabeth," he whispered.

Elizabeth leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees and lacing her fingers together. "John, be rational about this." Her tone was slightly chastising. "You know you didn't leave them behind willingly. Given your state of mind, it's a miracle you even got back here alive." She took a deep breath. "And now? You're helping to get them back. Your intel is invaluable for the success of Lorne's mission. Think about all of that, Colonel."

John looked sideways at her, his gaze unconvinced before he nodded silently.

Elizabeth stood. "We'll keep you in the loop." She pointed at his radio headset. "If you think of something, call me. I'll be in Ops, but try to rest some as well."

He looked up at her. "Thanks, Elizabeth."

She smiled slightly. "It's going to be okay, John," she tried to reassure him.

John nodded again, his expression still unconvinced. "Yeah."

Elizabeth headed towards the exit, pausing as Carson caught her eye and waved at her. She stopped, near the exit, waiting for him as he hurried over to her. "Carson?"

"How's the colonel's mental state?"

Elizabeth's brows furrowed slightly, the question somewhat unexpected. "He's got a strong face of command on, which doesn't surprise me in the least, but I know he's feeling guilty about leaving his team behind." She sighed. "I'd expect him to be worried, but we've given him the details of his condition. It surprises me that he's carrying so much guilt anyway. I know how much his values of not leaving anyone behind means to him personally, but he has to know this isn't his fault."

Carson nodded. "I think he does."

He waved towards a more private corner of the infirmary and she followed him there. "What?" she asked.

Carson sighed. "One of the common side effects of coming down from a serotonin overdose is depression. Usually, it's caused by the pendulum swing from too much to not enough serotonin. We've taken him off the serotonin inhibitors, but it's going to take a little bit for his body to start producing it again."

Elizabeth nodded. "Serotonin is a feel good hormone, right?"

Carson also nodded. "Yes. I think when that balance in his bloodstream is re-established he'll be a bit more level-headed about all of this."

Elizabeth pursed her lips. "Bringing his team back alive will help, too."

"Aye," Carson agreed, "more than anything else."

She reached out and squeezed his shoulder briefly. "Thank you, Carson. Keep me updated."

"Will do," Carson answered.

Elizabeth silently left the infirmary, her mind deep in thought.

_Bringing his team back alive will help, too…._

She turned, heading straight for the transporter that would take her to Ops. That item was on the top of her list, and she was bound and determined to make sure it was completed.

Lorne froze, raising his fist and stopping the men following him as he reached the edge of the tree line. He signaled for most of the team to stay put and he crouched, moving forward with just a couple of men. He stopped at the edge of the thin cover, not daring to go any farther and risk being spotted. He looked to his right at Captain Reyes from the Ranger team, who crouched next to him and pulled out a set of binoculars.

After a minute, he nodded and handed them to Lorne. "Got 'em. Right where the colonel said they'd be."

Lorne focused on two guards standing casually outside a solid metal door. He lowered the binoculars and looked to his left where Kellerman patiently waited, his sniper rifle secured on his back. Lorne handed him the binoculars. "Half a klick and at the ten o'clock."

Kellerman immediately focused on the indicated spot. "Yep. See 'em."

"Think you can find a spot where you can take them out?" Lorne asked.

Kellerman lowered the binoculars, handed them back to Lorne and smiled, his expression challenging. "No problem. Give me a few to get into position. I'll squawk when I'm ready."

Lorne nodded. "Go." He looked back to Reyes as Kellerman quietly slipped away. Lorne handed the captain the binoculars. "Look around. See if you see anyone else."

Reyes took the binoculars and peered through them before shaking his head. "We'll be pretty exposed from this point on," he commented absently.

"No choice," Lorne answered. "That's why we need Kellerman to get those guys and hope to hell no one else is around."

"I don't see anyone," Reyes answered. "We'll still want to cover the distance quickly."

Lorne nodded. "Agreed." He waited for Kellerman's signal in silence, his gaze scanning the large open field that bordered a sheer cliff wall. Around him, the trees were a multitude of color, heralding this planet's autumnal season. The grass was brown and short, rendered dormant by frost, Lorne assumed, considering the cold bite in the air.

"Still no sign of anyone," Reyes muttered. "Pretty sloppy. You'd think they'd be on heightened alert since the colonel escaped. I'm half surprised they're even still on this planet."

Lorne shrugged. "Maybe they think they can defend their complex from anything we throw at them?"

Reyes looked at him. "Not very reassuring on a mission," he quipped cynically.

Lorne chuckled. "We're sneaking in, remember? No attack."

"_Major Lorne, this is Lieutenant Kellerman. I'm in position. Got the bastards in my sights." _

Lorne tapped his headset. "Stand by, Lieutenant." He looked over his shoulder at Sergeant Timmons. "Get ready."

Timmons nodded, turned, and signaled the other men, who slowly moved forward.

Reyes fixed his gaze through the binoculars but shifted his weight into a ready position, his crouch tense.

Lorne tapped his headset. "Lorne to Kellerman. Take them out, Lieutenant."

"_Copy that, sir," _Kellerman responded.

Lorne looked to Reyes. With the silencer, he'd never hear the shots that would hopefully take down the two guards, so he relied on Reyes' view of the situation.

After a moment, Reyes reflexively flinched ever so slightly. "One down." Abruptly, he lowered the binoculars and shoved them into his vest pocket. "That's two. Damn fine shooting."

Lorne tapped his headset and signaled his teams forward. "Kellerman, nice job. Stay where you are. We may need cover on our way back out." He trotted forward, Reyes and the rest of his men right behind him.

"_Copy that, Major," _Kellerman answered, _"Got your backs." _

Lorne and his men quickly crossed the open space, each man scanning the area around them, looking for any additional guards that might be alerted to their presence. Each man had silencers on their weapons, the hope being they could quickly and quietly dispose of anyone who would raise the alarm.

Reaching the door, Lorne grabbed the bolt and paused, looking over at Reyes, who raised his hand, signaling at his Ranger team who stepped up next to him, their guns trained on the door.

Standing by the hinges and out of the line of fire, Lorne pulled back the bolt and quickly opened the door.

Reyes and his team hurried forward, quickly scanning the entrance before giving the all clear signal.

Lorne quickly joined them, taking point as they started down a long, dark hallway. He looked back at Timmons, who brought up the rear. "Close the door," he said quietly. The light from the open door could be seen from a long ways down the long, straight corridor and would be a beacon of trouble to anyone passing by.

From the back of his head, Lorne recalled Sheppard's instructions and took the first right-hand turn, leading his teams down another long hallway. At the next intersection he froze as he came face to face with two enemy soldiers. Without thinking, Lorne shot the first one, Reyes immediately shooting the second one.

"Damn it," Lorne whispered. "Pull the bodies back into the corridor more. Hopefully, no one will see them—at least for a while."

Two of Reyes' men quickly dragged the dead soldiers back down the corridor they'd come from.

Reyes shook his head. "We can't keep killin' guys and expect it to go unnoticed. Not unless we can hide the bodies."

Lorne nodded. "I know. Let's just hope we don't meet up with any more." He started forward, again leading his men deeper into the complex.

Lorne led them through each turn, uneventfully following the colonel's directions. _Unless they've been moved…_ Lorne shook his head, dismissing the thought as he hoped to hell it wasn't true.

Taking the last right-hand turn, Lorne ran down the short hallway, a large cell door at the end the focus of his gaze. No guards were present, and he was thankful for that one, small grace. He looked back at Reyes. "Watch the six."

Reyes nodded and signaled his team. They all turned, guns trained down the hallway, ready for any unwelcomed arrivals.

Lorne grabbed the door bolt. "McKay? Ronon? Teyla?"

"Lorne?" McKay's voice was hoarse, but still incredulous. "How the hell did you find us?"

Lorne pulled hard on the bolt, releasing it and he heaved the door open before quickly entering the cell. His gaze passed over Sheppard's team. McKay and Teyla were on their feet, if barely. Both were battered, sporting cuts and bruises all over their face and arms. Lorne suspected they were just as battered under their clothes as they were on their exposed skin. His gaze fell on Ronon who was slumped against the wall, barely conscious. His shoulder was covered by a blood soaked coat, probably belonging to either Teyla or McKay.

Lorne quickly crossed the cell and knelt by the Satedean. "Ronon?" He carefully lifted the coat off Ronon's wound and pulled a field dressing out of his TAC vest.

Ronon inhaled deeply. "Lorne?" he asked in a weak voice.

"He was shot during the capture," Teyla's voice wavered. "He has lost a lot of blood." She limped closer to him. "We do not know where Colonel Sheppard is."

Lorne quickly tied the bandage. "On Atlantis. He managed to escape." His gaze passed between Teyla and McKay, noting the surprised expressions they exchanged.

McKay looked down at him. "He escaped?"

Lorne waved at Timmons along with Corporal Stone from his team. "Help Ronon." He looked at Teyla and McKay, vividly hearing the rest of McKay's unvoiced thought.

_And left us behind?_

Lorne stood and faced both of them. "He was drugged out of his mind and violently delusional. It's a miracle he made it back to Atlantis in the first place." He took a step towards them. "He didn't know what he was doing." Lorne raised his eyebrows slightly.

McKay's expression turned understanding for a brief moment, before arrogance took over. "Does he ever?" he snapped.

One side of Lorne's mouth quirked up slightly as he looked at Teyla, whose expression mirrored his. His smile faded. "Can you guys walk on your own? We gotta get out of here before we're discovered."

"Yes," Teyla immediately responded. She held her arm close to her side and Lorne wondered about her ribs. He hovered close to both of them as Timmons and Stone helped Ronon to his feet, each one taking an arm over their shoulders.

Ronon groaned quietly in response to the jostling of his shoulder but managed to get his feet under himself.

Lorne lifted his gun. "Let's move." He exited the cell and paused next to Reyes. "Watch Teyla and McKay," he muttered, "I think they're hurt worse than they're admitting." He made eye contact with Reyes. "McKay isn't bitching. That's enough to send up red flags in my mind."

Reyes nodded.

"I heard that," McKay's voice was indignant, in spite of being weak. "Would you rather I bitch or walk?"

Lorne couldn't help the slight smile that fleeted over his face before it disappeared behind his professional mask. "Move," he said as he started forward, Reyes right next to him. Lorne took a left, leading them back through the maze as they worked their way to the surface. As he reached the last long hallway, he could see the exit door at the end of the corridor.

"Major! Company!" One of the Rangers on the six hailed before opening fire.

Lorne flinched as a gunshot ricocheted off the cave wall to his right. "Watch it!" He returned fire as three guards appeared from an adjacent corridor at the last intersection.

One of the Rangers cried out and fell as a shot took him in the arm, but the overwhelming firepower of Lorne, his team, and the Rangers ended the fight. The damage was done though. Several shots had been fired by the guards and the sounds most likely had alerted the entire complex.

Lorne looked around as shouts echoed from several directions down the corridors at the intersection. "Damn it! That does it. They're on to us." He looked down at the wounded Ranger who struggled to his feet.

"Just grazed me," he waved, holding his gun with his good hand.

Lorne nodded once, curtly, at him. "Let's get the hell out of here!" Turning, he sprinted towards the entrance and threw open the door. With Reyes at his shoulder, he scanned the field looking, for attack but found none.

"They haven't had a chance to organize yet," Reyes said. "When they do, we'll have a problem."

Lorne dove to the side as gunfire echoed down the corridor, everyone on the team doing the same thing. Two Rangers rolled into a crouch and returned fire.

Lorne smacked his headset. "Kellerman! We're coming out hot! Pick off any of the bastards who follow us!" He waved at the entire team. "Go!" he ordered.

"_Copy that," _Kellerman answered. _"Consider your ass covered, Major."_

Had the situation not been so serious, Lorne would've smiled at the lieutenant's response. Laying down cover fire, Lorne, Reyes, and the remaining Rangers covered the others who helped Teyla, Ronon, and McKay. Lorne signaled the two Rangers to follow while he and Reyes brought up the rear. "Get to the gate!" Running backwards as best he could, Lorne fired on four men who exited the cave, his shots hitting one as another was thrown backwards, the spray of blood from his chest clearly visible—the unmistakable and instantly lethal hit from a sniper rifle. The other two guards immediately hit the dirt.

A clump of dirt flew into the air just in front of one of the prone guards, and Lorne lowered his gun. "Kellerman's keeping their heads down. Come on!" He turned, sprinting to catch up with the group, hoping Kellerman could keep the guards busy and cover their retreat.

Reaching the tree line, Lorne took a deep breath and again tapped his headset. "Kellerman, get to the gate now!"

"_Moving, sir,"_ Kellerman answered.

Just behind Reyes, who trailed closely behind the rest of the group, Lorne trotted down the path through the trees. As they neared the gate, he stopped, his gun instantly coming up at a crashing in the trees to his right.

"All clear?" The unmistakable shout of Kellerman relieved Lorne, who lowered his gun.

"All clear!" Lorne answered and spared a quick smile as the lieutenant burst through the underbrush and stopped next to him.

Lorne turned towards the DHD, but Reyes was already dialing, the chevrons on the gate obligingly coming to life.

Lorne pulled out his GDO as the wormhole flushed into existence. "Atlantis, this is Lorne. Sending my code now. Things are about to get real hot here. Recommend you raise the shield as soon as we're through."

_"Major, this is Atlantis,"_ Weir responded. _"Shield is down. Come through."_

Lorne waved his hand in a circling motion before he pointed at the gate. "Go!" he ordered as he turned and faced the trail, waiting for the enemy to attack. Behind him, he could hear the unmistakable sound of his team, and, he thought contentedly, Sheppard's team as well, crossing the event horizon. He glanced at Reyes. "Go."

Following behind the captain, Lorne was the last to reach the event horizon. He paused for a moment as enemy soldiers and guards ran down the path. Taking a giant step backwards, Lorne crossed the event horizon.

He stumbled into the Gate room and looked up at Ops. "Raise the shield now!" His gun trained on the wormhole, Lorne didn't lower it until the shield sprang to life, and he didn't relax at all until the wormhole disengaged. Exhaling sharply, Lorne turned, his eyes passing over the entire team, Weir's call for a medical team echoing in his headset. His gaze focused on the floor, as another voice came across the radio.

"_Major Lorne, this is Sheppard. Report." _

Lorne tapped his headset. "Sir," he panted. "All's good. Got a little… hot at the end."

_"My team?"_

Sheppard's voice was intense and Lorne could picture the colonel leaning forward, ready to spring from his bed… if he had the strength. Lorne's eyes passed over Ronon, who, while he was lying on the Gate Room floor, still looked at him and smiled weakly. Teyla and McKay sat close by Ronon. Lorne pulled in a deep, relieved breath. "We got 'em, sir. They're a little banged up but okay."

"_Ronon too?" _

Lorne nodded. "Ronon too. Don't think he'll be fighting any Wraith soon, but he's alive." There was a long pause on the radio, and for a minute, Lorne wasn't sure if the channel was still open until Sheppard's reply confirmed it.

"_Well done, Major. Sheppard out." _

Lorne's smile lingered. "Thank you, sir. Lorne out."

Exhaustion from the mission started to hit him as the adrenaline drained from his body. Lorne rested his hands on the top of his P-90 hanging from his vest and breathed deeply. "All's good," he muttered and then smiled.

John's head flopped back against the pillows, strength draining from his body while his mind latched onto Lorne's words.

"_We got 'em, sir. They're a little banged up but okay." _

His eyelids slid shut but a small smile still turned up one side of his mouth. "Safe," he whispered.

"Aye," the unmistakable voice of Carson answered him. "And that's it for you, Colonel."

John could feel the radio headset being gently pulled off his right ear but he didn't mind, not now. He grunted weakly, jarred from the floating bliss he'd been falling into by raw pain in his shoulder. Reflexively, his body tensed and his breathing turned rapid.

"You're getting something for that right now, whether you want it or not," Carson's voice was a peculiar mix of compassion and steeled authority. "And we're taking care of that shoulder. No arguments."

"N…none…" John whispered. He felt a warm flush race through his body as he surrendered to unconsciousness.

The darkness around the edges of his vision faded, giving way to gray. John furrowed his brow, a weak groan escaping him as he slowly peeled his eyes open. The lights in the infirmary were dim, as they often were at night. As his senses sharpened, he felt an almost oppressive weight on his left shoulder. Carefully turning his head, a twinge of pain hit him, but its effect was muted. He blinked, the thick bandage on his shoulder coming into focus.

"Colonel?"

John looked past his bed, watching as a slight form materialized from the shadows. He managed a small smile. "Teyla," he whispered.

Teyla returned his smile and slowly sat down on the side of his bed.

John's smile faded at her wince of pain. His gaze passed over her arms, chest, and face, all sporting cuts and bruises. Concerned, he momentarily forgot about his shoulder and tried to lift his left hand, only to be reminded by his body that he really, really shouldn't be doing that. "Ah," he grimaced. "Damn." He felt her warm hand wrap around his.

"Be still, John," Teyla soothed. "The surgery was successful. You will be fine, but you must rest and heal."

He locked gazes with her. "You okay?" he asked, the concern within him finding its way to his raspy voice.

She nodded. "Yes. I am a little battered but I am all right."

While her right hand held his left, his gaze settled on her left hand, folded in her lap. Distinct rope burns circled her wrist, mirroring the ones on his. In place of the normal, midriff tops she usually wore, was a long sleeveless tunic, covering all of her torso. In that moment, the shirt, bruises and cuts suddenly gave him the full picture of what had happened, a picture he wish he didn't have. "They interrogated you." His whispered statement wasn't a question.

Teyla looked away from him a moment and nodded. "Yes. Both Rodney and myself were… questioned. Neither of us told them anything, but they were very… insistent." She looked at him. "I believe if we would have been there much longer, one of us would have been killed."

John's breaths came faster. "Damn it," he clenched his fists and felt Teyla's grip on his hand tighten in response. Because he'd resisted, because he'd escaped, his team….

John tried to shake off the thought. He knew the guilt was unfounded, but he still felt it. "McKay, Ronon. Are they…."

"They are all right," Teyla reassured, her small smile warm. "Rodney was here while I slept, and now he sleeps while I stay with you and Ronon."

John's lips tightened for a moment. _Ronon._ He heard Ronon's strangled grunt when he'd been shot, could still see the pallor on the big man's face and the blood seeping through the bandage. "Ronon's wound?"

Teyla's smile persisted. "He still has not woken up from his surgery, but he lost much more blood than you did. He will be fine, just as you will and just as Rodney and I will."

John just stared at her for a moment, his concern fading under her reassuring gaze. Another voice startled him.

"He's awake, which means you're not talking to yourself, Teyla. Comforting."

John turned his head, watching as Rodney walked up to the bed. His gait was as stiff as Teyla's and bruises, bumps, and cuts stood out in contrast to his pale skin on his face and arms. Like Teyla, angry rope burns circled his wrists.

John's gaze narrowed just a little.

"_Neither of us told them anything, but they were very… insistent."_

He'd always suspected that under all the complaining, Rodney was actually a tough cookie to break. John took some comfort in the fact that he'd been right.

"Sheppard," Rodney winced and eased into the plastic chair by his bed. "You've looked better."

"Rodney," Teyla chastised lightly.

"So have you, McKay," John quirked his brows.

"Yes, well, I at least had the good sense to not try to overwhelm the guards when they came for me," he threw a pointed look at Teyla, who shrugged.

John arched a brow at her. "Teyla?"

Teyla's expression was practical as she looked back at him. "We did not know where you were or what was happening. Escape seemed to be a viable option at the time. Ronon needed help and we needed to find you."

"Got herself a couple of cracked ribs for it," Rodney added.

John looked away. In spite of what his rational head knew, he still couldn't help the twinge of guilt for leaving them in danger. "I didn't mean to…" his voice trailed off.

"We know that," she smoothly interrupted. "In your state, you could not have been expected to react differently."

"I know," John answered softly. "Still…."

"Oh, just… stop!" Rodney's interruption was much more jarring to John and he looked at the scientist in annoyance.

Rodney pointed at him. "Don't give me that look. Sure, you left the planet, but according to Carson, you were drugged out of your mind and violent. You attacked the infirmary staff for God's sake." Rodney sighed deeply. "But did you ever consider that once you were in your right mind," he snorted, "well, as right as your mind ever is, that you led Lorne right to us? That, in your typical, unorthodox way, you **did** rescue us? Huh? So please! The Sheppard Heroic Streak has been duly satisfied."

John bit his tongue and considered Rodney's words. He had a point, but Rodney usually did, even if he was less than graceful about making it. He hadn't been in his right mind, he hadn't been able to think, and he hadn't been able to react any differently than he'd done. In the end, he'd been able to make a difference and his team was safe for it. John shook his head, his anger dissolving. "Thanks, McKay," he said quietly.

"Yes, well, someone had to kick you in your noble ass," Rodney answered.

Half amused and half irritated, which seemed to be John's default reaction when it came to Rodney, John looked at his teammate and smiled. "You enjoyed that too much."

Rodney smiled back, his expression a strange cross between haughty and friendly, an expression only Rodney could pull off, but he surprisingly said nothing.

John looked to Teyla and found the same comfort. In her expression, he saw affection, dedication, and reassurance. No anger, and somehow, he wasn't surprised. She knew the story, just as he did. There was no blame to place, and she knew it. Slowly, he smiled ever so slightly in return.

Teyla abruptly stood. "We should let you rest." She gave his hand one, final squeeze and let go.

John pushed his head deeper in the pillow. "When Ronon wakes, tell him I said hi. Maybe I can get Carson to let me out of this bed to visit."

"We will do so," Teyla answered.

"Yeah. Matching wounds. You just had to upstage him, didn't you?" Rodney slowly stood. "You two will be wheelchair racing across the infirmary before you know it," he added, before Teyla pushed him through the curtain.

Nodding at John, she pulled the curtain shut behind her.

John smiled to himself and closed his eyes.

Almost immediately, the privacy curtain ruffled again, this time admitting Carolyn Lansing. "Colonel," she said pleasantly, "Teyla said you were awake. I'll get your vitals and then you can sleep again, okay?"

Speechless, John just stared at her, his gaze focused on her swollen and discolored cheek and partial black eye.

"_You attacked the infirmary staff, for God's sake…"_

John lifted his head and swallowed hard. "Tell me I didn't do that," he said softly, but in his gut, he knew what her answer would be.

Carolyn sighed quietly, her gaze falling away from his. "It's all right, Colonel, you were violently delusional at the time. You… you didn't know what you were doing."

John closed his eyes, his head dropping back onto the pillows. "Damn it." After a moment, he looked up at her. "I'm…" he shook his head, looking for the right words and finally settling on one that still felt completely inadequate. "Sorry," he finished.

Carolyn lifted her head and looked him in the eyes for a moment, her expression accepting, before she walked around his bed and read the monitors over his head. "There's nothing to be sorry for, Colonel," she answered softly, not looking down at him. She scratched his vitals down on his chart and turned to leave.

John reached up, grabbing her arm. His touch was light, but her reflexive flinch didn't go unnoticed by him as she looked down into his face. A moment of apprehension fleeted across her expression before it disappeared.

Inwardly, he cursed. Carolyn had been on the infirmary staff from the beginning and had been his caregiver more than once. They were friends, and it hurt that she'd be frightened around him, even subconsciously. "Yes, there is," he insisted, though his voice was gentle.

Slowly, she reached up and tapped his knuckles gently before squeezing them. "You're forgiven, Colonel," she said softly.

"John," he answered. "After all this time, Carolyn, I think I think it's only right I return the first name favor."

She smiled. "John," she answered.

He returned a friendly smile of his own and his brows rose slightly as a blush raced up her cheeks.

Carolyn inhaled deeply, breaking gazes with him and pulling away. "Get some rest," she said as she ducked through the privacy curtain, leaving him alone.

John stared at the point in the curtain where she'd disappeared, his brows furrowing at her abrupt reaction. After a moment, he shook his head and again nestled it into the pillows. Sleep came quickly and he embraced it.

_Epilogue: _

John pushed back from the conference room table. Slouched in his chair, he absently rocked back and forth. "So," his gaze passed over Elizabeth, Lorne, and the rest of his team. "No one knows who these guys are?" He couldn't keep the disbelief out of his voice.

"If anyone does," Teyla answered, "then they are afraid to tell us. My people have heard rumors before of tribes of humans doing such things to other worlds, but they were always just rumors—tales among many with no evidence to qualify them. Either those who speak of these rumors do not know, or they will not talk more of it."

"Well, we have the evidence now," Lorne answered. "Any chance we can get the Relegarians to talk? We know for sure they're involved."

"That could be dangerous," Elizabeth answered as she sat forward and folded her hands on the table. "They already set us up once."

"I say they're getting what they deserve," Ronon answered.

"Ronon," Teyla looked at him, "they may not have had a choice but to send us to an ambush." She looked at Elizabeth. "Those that captured us were ruthless. They most likely threatened the Relegarians and pressured them into it."

John sighed. "As much as I hate sitting back and letting these bullies terrorize half the galaxy, we have to be careful with this. If these guys are threatening families, and homes, then anyone under their fist is just as dangerous as they are."

"All the more reason to steer clear of the Relegarians," Rodney interjected. "As much as I hate to admit it, I agree with Ronon on this. They're not exactly on our side here."

John looked over at Rodney. "They're oppressed, Rodney, held under the thumb of a bunch of brutes who get their power from terrorizing innocent people." Anger rose in him. He'd seen his fair share of oppressed people and ruthless thugs, and it irked him to no end to see it in Pegasus, too.

"Well, until we at least know who these guys are, it's hard to fight back." Lorne turned and looked directly at John.

John slowly swiveled his chair again as he mulled over Lorne's words. "Point taken, Major, which leads us back to intelligence."

"It will take time to find answers," Teyla folded her hands in her lap and looked around the table. "In the meantime, maybe Halling and Kelin can speak with the Relegarian leader. They have been trading partners for many years. Perhaps we can learn something."

"Not yet," John answered. "I don't want to draw more attention to ourselves until we know more. These guys already see us as a threat. If they find out we're poking around for more information about them, our threat factor goes up and they could get even more aggressive. I don't want any of us to have to face them down until we know more." He looked intently at her for a moment before his attention was grabbed by Elizabeth, who absently tapped her fingers on the table.

"We're not here to be the police force of Pegasus," she said quietly.

John leaned forward but bit back any words as she raised her hand and looked up at him.

"That being said," she continued, "these people made the first move and attacked your team, plus they've openly threatened Atlantis and our allies. That makes them, their actions, and their intent our business."

John pressed his lips together and nodded, his eyes never leaving hers and his approval very evident on his face. He looked at Teyla. "We'll have to do this quietly. Have your people drop some subtle questions, and let's see what answers we get."

Teyla smiled and nodded. "There are several places where we can discreetly inquire. I will see to it immediately." She nodded once at Elizabeth and stood before quickly leaving the conference room.

John's gaze moved to Ronon, who shrugged.

"Just let me know when you have something to fight. I want a re-match with these guys." Ronon stood, following Teyla.

Elizabeth pushed back from the table and stood. "That will be all. Thank you." She was unmoving as Lorne and McKay also exited the conference room.

John hadn't moved from his chair either, but now, he again leaned back and rocked gently. "Just what we need. Another bad guy floatin' around out there."

Elizabeth sighed. "The Relegarians have traded with the Athosians for generations. If they couldn't be trusted not to betray us…." Her voice trailed off.

John nodded. He'd come to the same conclusion, along with a few others, as he'd lain in the hospital bed, recovering from his wound. "We can't just hole up in Atlantis and not go out there, Elizabeth."

Her smile was grim and she nodded. "I know." She looked up at him. "I'd say be more vigilant, but I'm not sure that's possible."

John rubbed a hand over his five o'clock shadow. "Well, at least now we know they're out there. That's something."

She smiled. "And you and your team are safe. That's something, too."

John smiled back, taking the moment to put aside his worry. "That's everything."

~~The End~~


End file.
